Out Of The Darkness
by TwinTrouble
Summary: Normal? What’s that? We’re anything but normal. Kidnapped, altered, nearly murdered... Why us? And why is everyone trying to kill me? I trust only my fellow Pokémorphs, who escaped, and my sister, two years dead. I guess insanity runs in the family...
1. Pain

Twin2: No, Winging It has NOT been abandoned. I just really needed to get this one moving, because it was slowly driving me insane… Next Winging It chapter should be up in a few days, assuming I don't get any detentions or whatnot in between now and then.

Welcome to: **Out Of The Darkness.**

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One: Pain

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No matter how bad you think it is, the situation could always be worse.

Unless you happened to be me, right here and right now.

Whatever the hell they were doing to me, it bloody hurt. Knives forced themselves into every inch of flesh, burning pain roared all over and my bones themselves felt as if they were splintering from the inside. Plus, my nose itched.

Flashes of light exploded over my eyes in the face of the pain and I could feel my heartbeat pulsing painfully in my arms, in my fingertips, in my head, ears, feet, toes; everywhere my blood was sent, it took with it a fiery pain that never slackened.

But what clinched this situation as the worst I'd ever known was the fact that I couldn't fight back. I was trapped. Options: zero.

Nothing I could do seemed to make the pain stop or even slow it down. It simply gained ground, more and more, fighting its way up the pain threshold. But through all this I refused to scream, only fought silently, my face rigid with pain and hatred. I twisted to the side, trying to escape the tight bonds that held me down, but they only seemed to dig in more, adding to the pain.

A final, spearing agony shot through my head and I screamed aloud at last, arching my back against the pain and fighting more furiously than before. The scream slowly changed into a piercing shriek, and the people around me were forced to cower with their hands over their ears, now yelling in pain themselves.

The last note of the screech died away and I fell into a blackness so deep I hoped I would never wake up.

----

As soon as I registered my wakefulness, I wanted to go back to sleep.

Pain still streamed through me like fire in my veins, but it was duller than before. Not exactly bearable, but I could handle it. Just.

I could feel my hands shaking, needle-sharp pains burning in the tips of my fingers and toes. My skin prickled all over but I still couldn't move to scratch it.

I let out a soft, mournful howl, surprising myself. I only made that noise when I was extremely upset, and it sounded more haunting than usual. Then a face shifted into my view and I snarled, the sound a vicious, feral curse.

He didn't move back at all, instead leaning closer and inspecting the air next to my head as if it was the resting place of the Hope Diamond. I twitched and strained, trying desperately to free myself and cause some serious damage. I tossed my head angrily and felt that it was slightly off-balance, but I was too furious to quite care.

He leaned a little closer and I snapped at him, the movement odd for a human but currently my only defensive mechanism. He certainly jerked away fast enough at the prospect of meeting my teeth.

I growled, long and low, letting my lips curl away from my teeth: a clear threat. The man gulped and backed away as the blackness pulled me under again.

----

This time when I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the absence of the pain.

I wasn't numb: I could feel all of my fingers when I drummed them against the floor. I was just… not in pain. Odd. Very odd.

I didn't want to open my eyes. I was still so tired… it felt as if all the life had been sucked out of me…

"Hey, kid, you alright?"

I didn't move, although my heartbeat was now going double the speed it should. I wasn't alone.

"Kid, you've been asleep for two days. If you don't wake up soon I'm gonna assume you're in a coma."

This was all I needed. Yep. I really needed someone to be forcing me awake when I would rather just lie back and die in the mere _memory _of the pain I had been through, forget the pain itself. At the recollection of it my lower back began to ache from my frantic thrashing and my wrists and ankles, where the ties had been cutting deep, started to sting.

I twitched slightly and then opened my eyes slowly. It was blurry and unfocused; the lights were too bright. I shut them again, trying to just fall back into darkness…

Something prodded my shoulder.

"Upupupupupupupupupupupupupupupupupupup!" a new voice demanded loudly. "Upupupupupupupupupupupupup!" Now it was poking me in time with every syllable. I growled.

"Keisha, stop that," said the first voice. The poking didn't stop.

I let out a soft, dull hiss of warning, but knew I didn't have the strength to back it up.

"Hey, it's alive!" said someone else sarcastically. "Darn, that means I don't get to eat it!"

"Pipe down, Titan, you'll scare it. Don't you remember what happened when _someone_ pissed off Arden?"

"Vividly," said 'Titan' dryly. "But I'm hungry."

"Well, this one looks about as dangerous as her."

Alright. They'd piqued my interest now. I wanted to see what was going on and if I was in any danger. I opened my eyes again, and everything was a little less blurry than before. Someone was watching me: not close enough that I felt threatened. I focused on the face, ironing out the blur in my vision.

It was a boy of… eighteen? Nineteen? His eyes were bright blue, the clear blue of a cloudless sky. There were odd ridges above his eyes, tinged green, while the rest of his skin was pale and tinged ever-so-slightly tan-yellow. Most of his hair was cropped quite short, but from what I could see, it was a dull blond. His arms were crossed over his chest and I could see long, unnatural protrusions coming from them shaped and coloured like elongated leaves. They looked sharp. His feet were bare, revealing slightly clawed toes, and he wore a blue polo shirt with black jeans.

"You alright, kid?" he asked again, and I coupled his image with the first voice I'd heard. "They threw you in two days ago and you haven't moved since."

I bared my teeth but otherwise didn't bother to reply, not thinking it needed one, and instead concentrated on pushing myself up from the floor. My muscles strained and I remembered how badly I'd mistreated them earlier, but I got myself enough off the ground to pull my legs under me so that I was sitting up cross-legged and then took the time to examine my surroundings.

There were seven or eight other people in the room, either sitting on the floor or the table, or leaning against walls. They were all not quite human: a boy who was looking at me with faint interest had a strip of steel running down the bridge of his nose and it carved through his hairline into a dangerous-looking spike at the back of his head. Stout ribbons of steel hung from his arms, not listlessly, but stiff, razor-edged and dangerous. His own eyes were brown.

A tall, lanky-looking girl was curled underneath the table and she watched me curiously. Her eyes were hazel, standing out from her bluish skin, and her ears seemed to have been swapped for a pair of small white wings. A white nub of a horn protruded from her forehead, between her glittering eyes.

There were several others, but the other one who was close to me seemed the least human of the lot. The girl who had no doubt been the one poking me had hard-looking, slightly green-shaded skin, and a humanoid body, but her legs were built more sturdily than a human's ever would, with only three toes and dangerous-looking claws. Two pairs of insectoid wings emerged from her shoulders, cream-white papery membrane stretched between rigid green struts. But her hands… had been swapped for blades. Long, dangerous-looking ones.

I understood then, quite suddenly, that she had been spliced, hybridised. She was a cross between a Scyther and a human. They all were, but with different Pokémon.

I swallowed, already guessing at what had happened to me, and looked at a cold, polished metal wall. My reflection looked back solemnly. All of my long hair had turned white, all the way down to the tips, framing my tanned face. A gem of black stone was set in my forehead. My hands were clawed, and my bare feet were both clawed and covered in fine, snowy fur. My neck and shoulders were also enveloped in the silky fur, along with parts of my hands and wrists. A blade of ebony rose from the side of my head and pale grey-blue eyes glared back from my reflection.

That was all the hint I needed. I had been turned into an Absol hybrid. A blend of canine and feline instincts.

"How the hell did this happen?" I asked bluntly, tossing my head slightly and feeling the slight weight of the blade – it wasn't the full size of an Absol blade. I was panicking inside but I wouldn't let the weakness show. "How did they do to us?" I've never been famous for my tact.

A boy spliced with a dark-type (I suspected a Mightyena from the black streaks on his cheeks and arms and unnaturally black and grey hair) up the back sneered, "We don't ask. None of us are scientists. We just sign up and boom, you're a hybrid."

It clicked. "You volunteered for this?!" I asked, completely stupefied.

"You didn't?" he asked back.

I felt a chill. _The last thing I remember is one hell of a headache. And then waking up on the operating table, and bloody hell, it hurt._ I shifted my weight and winced as something moved painfully underneath me. Kneeling to take the weight off it, I glanced back and yelped, self-control gone. "What the hell?! I have a tail! A tail!"

"Wait. You didn't volunteer?" the Mightyena boy intervened. _The shock on my face probably clued him in, _I thought bitterly.

"No," I said flatly, emotionlessly, not letting them see any more of me than was absolutely necessary. _I was walking home from school and then my memory blacks out. What the hell is going on?_

"Well, _we _all volunteered," he said snobbishly, making me curl my hands – and claws – in apprehensive irritation.

"I didn't," said the boy who'd first spoken.

"I didn't," said the Scyther girl, Keisha, I think her name was.

"I didn't," said the steel-edged boy that I now recognised as a Skarmory hybrid. "I was out on the streets and I got grabbed. Didn't wake up til the whole thing was done."

"They took me out of my own house," said Keisha calmly.

"My parents sold me to them." I stared at him in shock, and he smiled quite cheerfully. "Name's Iridium. Welcome to the life of a Pokémorph."


	2. Change

Twin2: And we learn the main character's name, finally. I have a bad habit of doing that. You know, before I wrote this chapter, even_** I**_ didn't know what her name was…

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Two: Change

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I'd been here, awake, for two days, and I still had no idea of what was going on.

We, we being me and the other Pokémorphs, the other hybrids, had a small set of rooms – there were twelve different bedrooms and two bathrooms, one for the boys and one for the girls. We knew which room was ours by the name of the Pokémon we were spliced with engraved into the wood. The unoccupied ones had no names at all, and we never even tried to go into them. A living area and a place where food appeared daily also featured. There were nine of us, including me, five girls and four boys.

I was still a little stiff after… you know, but it was wearing off fast, and I now knew that as a hybrid I was far stronger than either a human or an Absol – I almost kicked a hole in my wall by _accident_. Mew knew what I'd be able to do if I actually intended the outcome.

Terrified? Absolutely. But it wasn't my way to show it: grief, fear, I always displayed them calmly. Not anger. My temper could spark a massive fight when stoked, and I was tough. My sister used to train me in self-defence when I was… eight, and she twelve, insisting I'd need it if Team Rocket or some other Team got involved. Not that it had helped much so far. But it'll be useful if future, I just know it.

I was scared by what had happened, but somewhere in those two days, I accepted that it wasn't going to change, and that nothing I did would alter that fact. So I dealt with it, in my own way. In silence, and on my own. The eating-room was the only place the others really saw me, and even then it was just for the few seconds it took me to grab a plate of whatever it was we had to eat for the day and then all they could see was my back as I walked calmly back to my room.

Speaking of 'whatever we were eating at the time' (which ranged from brown biscuity things to bluish pulp and green slush), the less said on it, the better. It tasted very… odd, and I'll leave it at that. It was edible, certainly, but cardboard is edible as well. I'd just hesitate to actually call it 'food'.

I didn't understand what was going on. Why had we been altered like this? Why were we being left to ourselves? What were they going to do with us? Every unanswered question left a sick feeling of fear in my stomach. I didn't know where I could get my answers, and the mystery of what was going on made me very wary, so that I refused to speak to the others, instead glaring them down stiffly when they asked me a question. The pale, icy colour of my eyes scared them, quite a bit, and soon they stopped trying to ask me anything.

That had never changed, never as long as I'd lived, never in all my fourteen years and everything I'd known. My pale eyes could creep anyone out in seconds.

Except for the Sceptile morph, Iridium. He kept asking me questions, and would only hold my gaze for a few seconds before giving in. But he always came back to see if I would answer this time. I avoided him and the others as much as possible, preferring to deal with it on my own, exploring as far as I could and evading all touches of reality: something I had done even when I was still fully human.

I hadn't spoken since that first day when I asked how they had done this to us.

I was curled up underneath my bed, the spot that I called my den. The carpet was thick and green, imitating grass, and the walls and ceiling were painted black. My bed was, for some obscure reason, covered in red sheets, and I hated it, preferring to sleep on the floor. There were some black shelves and a black desk as well, but they were unused.

The door opened, creaking slightly, and my eyes snapped open. Dull greyish-purple see-through feet appeared in my line of vision and I glared, my eyes narrowing dangerously. It was Vetos: another one who had volunteered to be spliced, in his case, with Gengar genes. He wasn't entirely solid in places, his feet and hands being entirely ghostly and his limbs solidifying into a fairly normal, if wavering human body and head with dark brown eyes.

"Oi, Absol kid," he said boredly, and I flattened myself against the floor, making sure one black-furred ear was open to hear. "I know you're in here somewhere – we've checked everywhere else. It'd be a lot easier to find you if you answered when we called you, y'know. We got a new arrival. Iridium made me get you; he said he thought you might like to see this." He stomped out and I waited a second before poking my head out from under the bed.

Absol kid. Absol kid or Absol girl, that was all anyone ever called me._ Not that they have much choice,_ I admitted, wriggling out from under the bed. I had never told anyone my name. Not even Iridium, although he asked many times.

Cautiously I looked out into the corridor, ready to bolt if anything seemed off. But it appeared to be ok, and I began to trot down the hall, my stout black Absol tail poking out from the gap between my jeans and my shirt – it was high enough on my back that I hadn't needed to cut a hole in my jeans. Fortunately, because this seemed to be my only pair for now.

I looked into the only room with a link to the outside world, the only one where everything was cold metal, and was unsurprised to find everyone there, mostly around the edges, while Iridium argued with Aisha on what to do with our newcomer. Kiesha was shifting her weight uneasily on the edge of the room.

I studied him as he crouched on the floor, a harsh scowl on his face. Houndoom hybrid, without a doubt. It was a familiar breed – someone from my school, well, my old school now, had owned its pre-evolution, Houndour, and made a big fuss when it evolved. This Pokémorph's skin was all covered in sleek black fur, his wrists and ankles ringed with the grey bands characteristic of that evolutionary line, and a pair of short grey horns emerged from his head, separating him from his pre-evolution.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, "that must have been some party."

"Headache?" asked Arden snidely, fiddling with some of the feathers on her arms – she had Staraptor genes.

"No, I'm talking to myself. Yes I have a headache you freaking dickheads!"

I flinched and took a step back into the corridor. _I think I'll sit this one out._

Even back in my room, under the bed, I could hear him swearing and arguing with the others. Apparently he hadn't signed up for it, either. But how did you sign up to be a hybrid, anyway?

Light footsteps on the dark carpet outside alerted me to someone coming. None of the others could hear things like that, or at least they didn't seem to: now, as an Absol, my senses were far keener than my human senses had been, and the carpet muffled things mostly beyond the others' senses. I flattened myself against the floor, as if that would help me hide, as the door opened and the shouting spilled in.

_Man, that Houndoom has one hell of a set of lungs,_ I thought to myself, wincing at a particularly violent suggestion. The swearing brought back unpleasant memories.

"Kid, are you in here?" Iridium's soft voice asked.

I stuck my head out from under the bed and looked up at him. Something made me answer him for the first time, even though my voice was as flat as they'd ever known it. "I'm sure as hell not sitting out there listening to Mr Badmouth."

Iridium jumped slightly at the fact I'd replied, but then shrugged it off, smirked and sat on the floor near my desk. "He tells us his name is Pyrite, and he wants out."

"I gathered that." I flinched again at a fresh string of cursing. Why was I talking to this guy? Maybe he hadn't signed up for it either, but I couldn't trust anyone here. I didn't know what their motives were and I never, would never, give them a chance to learn mine.

But all the same, he noticed me wincing at every expletive, and shut the door, muffling it once more, before starting to talk at me like he always did: as if he didn't expect me to reply.

"You know, you've been here for two days, but we still don't know your name," said Iridium conversationally. "That's the longest anyone's held out, I think. Even Titan gave in after an hour or two of me bothering him – I was one of the first here, aside from Rekuna and Vetos. Guess the recruits weren't coming in fast enough."

I tensed a little, now ignoring the bad language still streaming faintly from outside, indecisive. I couldn't trust him… but I had a bargaining chip. It wasn't much, not much about me at all, and he might be able to explain this… I considered hesitantly for a few seconds more and finally came to a decision. "I'll tell you my name if you tell me about what's going on here."

Iridium's eyes sparkled at this sudden agreement for the trade of information and there was only a slight pause as his brain registered the fact I had answered him, again. "Deal."

"My name is Atlanta. Now why the hell is this happening?" I stared at him with my cold blue eyes, waiting for my answer.

"Atlanta. Nice name," he said. He grinned at my thinly veiled impatience (which was probably given away by a soft, annoyed growl) and began to explain. "No one's totally sure but we've got a few good guesses and we know for sure who's behind it. Have you heard of Team Rocket?"

I couldn't stop the shudder. "Yes," I ground out through gritted teeth.

He frowned slightly, leaning back with a thoughtful expression on his face. "They're doing this. We're not certain of why. Aisha expects they're trying to blackmail someone. Titan thinks they just do it to prove they can. But then, he's very cynical for a seventeen-year-old. I suspect that Team Rocket wants to train us as fighters. Pokémon powers, coupled with heightened human strength and intelligence. They could rule the world with us." His voice was grim.

I came out from under the bed a little more, peering out from behind my white bangs. Although they seemed to have a faint, very faint, blue tinge to them. Very faint, barely noticeable, but it was there. "Not if we won't obey them." _And I sure as hell won't._

"That's why they had people signing up, volunteering. But there weren't enough of them, so they started snatching kids. Us."

"Why kids?" I asked, following the tangent but still confused. "Adults are stronger, smarter and – generally – more mature. Why kids like us?"

"Well, Atlanta, that's part of the mystery. By the way, d'you mind if I tell the others your name? Titan says he's getting sick of calling you 'Absol girl' all the time."

I forced myself to shrug, reminding myself that they all had a right to know. "Go ahead."

He left, and I barely noticed. So Team Rocket was doing this. Team Rocket would snatch a fourteen-year-old girl off the streets and mutate her into a hybrid of Pokémon and human. Team Rocket would ask people to volunteer for such a change.

I was so deep in thought I didn't notice the footsteps outside until it was too late and I didn't notice the unwelcome presence in my room until someone grabbed my neck and dragged me all the way out from under my bed.

I yelled and immediately kicked out, trying to claw my attacker or cut him with my head blade, which had been growing and sharpening over the last few days into a dangerous weapon. He grabbed it and twisted my whole head to the side, moving towards the door and dragging me with him out into corridor. I howled with anger at the twist: it _hurt. _He tried to turn me away from him so I couldn't bite, and I followed the movement with my leg instead and kneed him in the chin, but he already had the upper hand.

Within a minute he had my wrists in one hand, my head blade in the other, and he was standing on my feet to hold me still. Having few other options, I hissed at him violently.

It was a pure human: not one of the hybrids. I wriggled again, trying to break free, but he twisted my head blade and I yelled again, letting my fury out without letting the pain show in either my face or my voice, despite the fact it _hurt._

"What the hell are you doing?"

Rekuna, the seventeen-year-old Mightyena boy, had never been so welcome. But even as the man turned around to face him, he didn't release me in any way, and I was starting to get a serious headache.

"Boss wants the Absol girl," he grunted. "So he'll get the Absol girl."

I growled fiercely even as he yanked painfully on my arms, trying to get me to behave. I knew that I would never obey, even as he dragged me towards the door that none of us had ever been able to open. But to walk, he had to get off my feet, and I used the opportunity to kick his shins and try to get my head around enough for me to bite him.

The others watched silently as I was towed out and the door shut and locked behind us. "What was that all about?" Titan asked softly. But my ears could still pick it up through a layer of reinforced steel.


	3. Instinct

Twin2: And this chapter is the first instance of this story earning its T rating. With my stories, a T rating is never for swearing, but usually for violence. And trust me, this is violent. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough.

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Three: Instinct

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As hopeless as it was, I fought this unfamiliar guard-human all the way to wherever it was we were going, trying desperately, almost panickedly, to get free, even though I knew I'd never escape.

But I couldn't give up.

I managed to get my teeth latched onto his arm just as he dragged me into a dark but very spacious-feeling room and dug them in. "Why _her_?" he asked painfully, trying and failing to get me to let go. I bit harder and drew blood, jaws aching from exertion.

"Because I want _her_, you idiot," a cold voice said dismissively from the upper shadows of the room. "Let her go and leave. You are allowed to go."

The guard let go of my head blade and wrists and backed away quickly; I let go of his arm and threw a snarl after him as he shot out the door, then wiped my bloodied teeth with one hand.

"Absol, approach," the shadowed voice commanded.

I ignored it and spat out a little blood from my fight, ignoring a faint shiver of dread down my spine. I was not a baby Absol, to be ordered around like a pet.

"Absol, approach," he repeated, with exactly the same intonation as before. I continued to pay the command no attention, instead glancing around the open, empty curiously, looking for… nothing in particular. Just looking, seeing what there was in this odd, dark, empty room.

"Absol, approach," he said once more, and this time it was accompanied by a stinging pain across my back. I leapt forward with a startled cry and spun around, facing this new opponent.

He was a man of about twenty-seven, tall, broad-shouldered and tanned-skinned. I changed my posture and backed away a little, on the defensive, instantly suspicious. His eyes were flat and cold, his mouth a thin, hard line, but it was the leather whip coiled around his arm that held my attention. I hissed in fury, my breath coming in short gasps.

"Absol, I want you to meet my personal Tamer, Grant. He teaches Pokémon who their masters are when they will not obey. Will you obey your masters, or will Grant have to teach you how?"

I looked up at where the voice was emitting from. A pair of hard, cold eyes glittered there, waiting for my response. Team Rocket was doing this. I remembered everything I'd ever been told about them, everything I had seen firsthand, and several scars both my dad and my older sister had gotten fighting against them. My breathing calmed and I inhaled determinedly. I knew. I knew what was coming, but I wasn't afraid. I was never afraid. I would not stand down!

My voice was cold, my stance resolute. "I will not submit."

I could tell my words had an effect on this strange man, greater than I had intended: he stiffened and his eyes widened as he sat forwards in his seat. Someone had said this to him recently, and he had not liked it. I let my eyes narrow, already calculating. If…

"Grant," he snarled. "She does not know who her masters are. Be so kind as to show her who's in charge."

"Yes sir," he said, and his voice was as dead as his eyes.

The whip snapped out and bit into my arm; I yelped and backed away from him, trying to get some distance, but I wasn't surprised. Not at all. It lashed out, striking another unprotected patch of skin, and it stung more than before. But I refused to back away again and took the blows silently now, trying to grab the end of the whip. Not the most intelligent move.

I missed it yet again and it struck the side of my cheek. I squealed in pain and anger: that had hurt, a lot. But I still didn't back off, instead leaping forwards with a roar.

Grant beat me back with his whip and I took this as a hint, now pacing around the edge of the whip's range, hissing at him fiercely. Blood was beginning to flow from the whip-cuts in my left shoulder, inflicted during my charge, but I ignored them, instead scowling at the human in the centre of the circle.

"Bad Absol," he said firmly. "Good Pokémon do not attack their masters. You want to be a good Pokémon."

I howled with boiling rage and sprang forwards again only to receive several stinging slashes from the whip. I growled viciously. I might have been a hybrid but I was not a pure Absol!

"Good Absol," he said. "Good Absol. Stand still and don't growl."

I hissed at him and resumed pacing, suddenly realising how much I was acting like one of the fiercely wild dark-types.

I shook it off. I didn't care.

I leaped towards him twice more only to be beaten back by the whip. Eventually something new occurred to me, and I sprang again, but ducked immediately to the side. The whip sang through the air where my head would have been and I jumped at Grant, rage in my blood.

He was already turning away from me, so that my claws only scratched his side instead of ripping his stomach open. "Machoke!" he shouted, sounding angry for the first time. "Hold her down!"

And then I was pinned facedown on the floor by two Pokémon. I couldn't kick, I couldn't scratch. But I could growl and hiss, and I did both. One stared at me with obvious boredom, but the other seemed… sympathetic?

As the whip came slashing down on my exposed back time and time again, I understood why.

And I understood why these people were called Tamers.

But even though I was in agony, I refused to let out a single whimper of pain.

"Bad Absol," he said with every one of the ten strikes. "Bad Absol. Bad Absol. Bad Absol."

Finally it stopped. The two Pokémon let me go and backed away; I stood up, somewhat shakily, flicking my head uncomfortably and sand falling away from me where it had stuck. My back was on fire and my shirt was shredded, but right now the one who wanted to break my spirit stood directly in front of me, unguarded.

No way could I resist that. I leaped, was smacked away, and had to figure out a new way to attack him.

I darted _under_ his guard this time, clawed feet gripping the gritty floor as I nipped under the handle of the whip, and as the ribbon of barbed leather cracked against the floor I leaped up, headbutting him in the chin.

The Machoke charged me and I was pinned again, my face in the sand. The whip sang. Grant repeated himself over and over. "Bad Absol. Bad Absol. Bad Absol. Bad Absol. Bad Absol. Bad Absol." It was like a mantra or something, but all that I cared about it was that it was in perfect time with the pulses of my pain. My back was bleeding and the parts of it that weren't were crisscrossed with red welts already rising.

I was allowed to stand up after another set of ten lashes. I leaped for his throat again, and didn't even manage to touch him; I was grabbed, restrained, and beaten again.

How long did this go on for? I didn't know. But rivulets of blood flowed down from my shoulders and stomach (he beat me there twice), soaking into my neck and leg fur, agony searing every part of me. He stepped away again. I forced myself to stand up, starting to feel faint from blood loss, and glared him in the eye.

Again I pounced. Again I was grabbed, pinned to the floor, and again I braced myself, but a cold, faintly bored voice called, "Enough. We will continue this later, when her adrenaline has worn off and she is starting to feel her battle wounds."

The two Machoke dragged me down the hallway again, back the way we had come. I think I was leaving a lot of blood on the floor; I'm not sure. Everything is slightly blurry, hazy with pain. I heard a door unlock and felt myself being thrown. I hit the ground and rolled a little before becoming still; the door closed again.

"Far out, what did they do to _you_?"

The voice was unfamiliar and I didn't think I cared.

"Hey! No dying on me!"

Blackness was rushing in… smothering… but darkness was safety, not being seen, the ability to move freely… Darkness was good.

"I said no dying on me!" The voice sounded faintly frantic now.

Blackness was good… it took away the pain… I could hide in the darkness and no one would ever find me… darkness was friendly, the blackness, the shadows were my allies…

"Zircon! ZIRCON!"

I slid down into unconsciousness.


	4. Consider

Twin2 here. A few introductions, and we have a bit of an explanation as to what's going on… not too much of one, though. I hate to let go of all my information at once (evil grin). Sorry if the last chapter was violent; I did warn you. As for an explanation of why, I always found it very unrealistic that Team Rocket would just take their Pokémon battle defeats and run off. They're mostly egotistical men who could easily overpower a ten-year-old if they wanted, so why bother with the Pokémon battle? They're an evil organisation after world domination. I don't think they'd let a little thing like the LAW get in their way, do you?

Don't worry; that was probably the most graphic this story will ever get. I'm not usually that violent, unless you get me really mad.

Well, this chapter is short and compact. We learn some important info and Atlanta shows some serious determination.

---

Four: Consider

---

I woke up and, as usual, wished I hadn't. _This is becoming a habit._ My back was on fire, my claws felt as if someone had put them through a paper shredder and my muscles were all sore.

"How're you feeling?" someone piped up.

I waited a second and thought before answering, considering the implications before telling the voice barely half the story, enough of a half to pass for the whole. My voice was weaker than it should have been, but I was too exhausted to care. "I'm… surprised I didn't die. Now who the hell are you?"

"I'm Minta!" she said gleefully. "Who're you?"

"Name's… Atlanta," I said, deciding that one more person knowing my name didn't really matter, and opened my eyes. The room I was in wasn't familiar, but I had a clean shirt on, one that wasn't shredded and covered in blood.

There was a girl of thirteen or so years sitting in front of me, peering down eagerly. Her twitching ears were triangular, covered in pink fur and too high on her head. Her hair, in two pigtails, was the same shade of pink. Her eyes were bright green, and a long, pink tail flicked excitedly behind her.

"You're a Pokémorph, too," I murmured weakly, and was immediately annoyed with myself for speaking without any particular reason.

"Yeah! So are you! I thought me and Zircon were the only ones!"

"Zircon?" I asked slowly, trying not to move and kicking myself mentally. It didn't matter who he was!

"Yeah, he's the one who told me how to treat your injuries. He was twenty when they got him, now he's a Luxray Pokémorph. What are you? I haven't seen your sort of Pokémon before."

"It's called an Absol," I said tiredly, letting my eyes close again. Then they flickered open again – I needed some answers. "So where's Zircon now?"

"I dunno. ZIRCON!" Minta yelled at the top of her lungs. There was a thump from nearby before slightly unsteady steps began to head their way.

"Minta, what the heck what that for?" a young man groaned, sticking his head through the doorway. I stiffened and had to bite back a groan of pain. He did look like a Luxray: his ears were rounded and covered in pale fur; his hair was dark blue and wild; and there were bands of dark fur on his wrists. "Oh, you're awake," he added, noticing me. "Who are you?"

"Atlanta," I replied, still not moving. I didn't think I had the strength to sit up; heck, I barely had enough strength to guard my tongue.

"What did you do to make them mad enough to beat you so badly? You would have died if Minta hadn't been awake when they threw you in here." He moved inside the room and sat down on the floor, eyes gleaming faintly with vague interest.

"I defied their leader… and caused… a bit of damage… to his tamer, and a guard or two," I rasped out, then coughed. "Are all the others going to have to go through this, too?"

"Only if they're as stubborn as you. Wait! There are more?" He seemed slightly surprised.

"Yeah… eight more. Rekuna, Aisha, Titan, Arden, Tetra, Vetos, Kiesha and Iridium. No, wait, nine, Pyrite. They're all different morphs." _Stop talking! Why are you talking?! They don't need to know this!_

"Wow… I had no idea there were so many," Zircon mused, rubbing his teeth with one claw.

"Including us, it's a round dozen," Minta agreed. "That's a lot of Pokémorphs."

"How did they find enough people willing to become one?" Zircon wondered aloud, obviously not thinking I would hear him. But I did, and I answered, "They didn't. Half of us were transformed against our wills. That'd be me, Iridium, Pyrite, Kiesha and Titan." _Why am I talking?!_

Zircon jumped, and then smiled at me sadly. "Minta is the same," he said quietly. "I… didn't want to be a Pokémorph. I'm a doctor. But I signed onto the project thinking I could help, and they changed me anyway."

I nodded exhaustedly. "Thank you… for helping me. You're right, I probably would have died. And I may still yet."

I knew he was confused, Minta too. So I continued, "They haven't broken me… yet. And they intend to. I… don't know why, but I seem to be… important to them."

Zircon nodded. "It's because of your DNA."

"My DNA?" _What's so special about it? I was just a normal human… well, as normal a human as I could be._

"Most human bodies reject Absol DNA, violently, and it's hard to get," Zircon explained. He was a doctor, and assigned to this 'project', so I listened. He had to know what he was talking about. "Your body accepted it and accepted the mutations. You have no idea how many people died on the operating table out of sheer agony because they couldn't accept the intrusion."

"I can believe that," I muttered, remembering the sheer agony. _It bloody hurt when I woke up halfway through. _I felt a little stronger now and sat up, ignoring how the room was now swirling dangerously. I felt my Absol-changed ears – black-furred pointed human ears mostly hidden by the long silk hair on my head – prick up, and heard far-off footsteps. "Did you put any bandages on me?"

"Yeah, or you would've died from blood loss."

I nodded briskly and began to unwrap them, ignoring his protests. _They're coming back for me again and it'll be better if they think I don't have any allies._

So when the guard stormed in, he found me sitting in the corner scowling at the other two, who glared right back, annoyed with my stubbornness, although they did stiffen and turn as he came in. He smirked and grabbed my arm, thinking I wanted to get away from them, but reconsidered this opinion when I drew blood.

It still only took the one person to drag me back into that dark room, though, especially since I was weakened from the previous beatings and starting to stiffen up. I crumpled to my knees as soon as he let go, but I scowled and stood up again, staggering only a little, giving the Tamer the evil eye. He looked slightly apprehensive.

I growled at him, but started to think instead of leaping straight for his throat. Grant was bigger than me, older, stronger, faster, but I was the stubbornest creature this side of the dimensional barriers, and my big sister had always told me never to give up. If I was going to go down I was going down fighting.

I was thinking, now. I wasn't just acting on instinct, striking out at random. I was thinking. I was proving I was human.

And this was bad news for Grant.

And then I was moving: not attacking, but darting around the circle, testing my range of movement. It wasn't pretty, but I could get around quickly enough. I considered what I was doing for a minute, gauged my distances, leaped to the side, jumped forwards and rolled to the side again. The whip cracked down where I'd been earlier, but now I was tackling the Tamer with all the force I could muster before jumping away again. He was startled, I could tell, as he brought the whip back to himself. I began to prowl around him, watching his every move and eyeing the two nearby Machoke warily. If they pinned me again…

I stumbled and caught myself, shaking my head. My fur was still bloodstained, the body fluid colouring it an ugly dark red.

What was I doing? I was fighting against humans. Humans always won. I let my head drop slightly, my ears flattening. No matter what I did they would always win out.

Then I jerked myself back, reminding myself that I was human once, too. And I wasn't going to give up. This was the Absol half of me talking. If the Absol's instincts could come through like that, then I could attack like an Absol, too. A strong Absol, to boot, not the clumsy Tackles and Bites I had just been using. Properly trained, there was hardly any move an Absol couldn't use.

I narrowed my eyes and began to think, sharpening my focus and hopeful that something would happen. Anything. I was waiting on a miracle here.

Flamethrower. I would try for a Flamethrower. I was going to teach myself Flamethrower in the space of a few seconds without a TM.

I took in a deep breath. _You can do this._ In my head a soft song rang through my head.

_Trust yourself, believe in yourself, when no one else can know,  
Have hope where there is despair 'cos you're their only confidence,  
When it's the last stand, you can never turn away,  
And even when you're out of hope you can never run away,_

_Because you're a fighter and you never give up,  
Because you've got spirit and you'll never back away,  
Because you're a fighter and you'll never turn it down,  
Because you're too fierce to ever tame…_

I half-smiled: my human life, my only friend's sober singing, it all seemed so far away now. But all the same, the words had meaning to me. Even though this was a situation no one could ever imagine getting into, I was going to find a way out.

I concentrated, trying to focus my anger at being transformed and mistreated, trying to shape it into something I could use. Nothing much was happening, except I was getting angrier and Grant was uncoiling the whip again.

Then I felt it. A heat from my belly, my chest, roaring up my throat. I bared my teeth, fuelling the fire, and then opened my mouth as a tongue of flame exploded from it.

Grant yelled and scrambled aside, hurriedly putting out a fire that had started on his pants. I smirked and exhaled a tiny cloud of smoke._ I have no idea what I did, but it worked._

As he stood up, dusting himself off angrily, I snarled fiercely. He'd beat me, there was no doubt about that, but I was going to find a way out of here. And when I did, I was going to take all of my comrades with me.


	5. I Am Human

Twin2: We skip over the violence here; there's not much variety in what they're attempting. Hell, the whole point is that it's the same thing, over and over! Repetition is how you teach animals to behave. They treat the Pokémorphs as wild animals because that's what they believe they are.

A flicker of backgrounding shows through in this chapter…

---

Five: I Am Human

---

I was only half-conscious as the two Machoke dragged me down the corridors again, but I still sensed that we weren't headed back to Minta and Zircon. Not that I could do much about it, though. In retribution for the unexpected Flamethrower I was now in a much worse condition than before.

One of them glanced down at me. "If you submitted to Master then you would not have to put up with such pain," it said gruffly. I wasn't surprised to understand it.

"It's a matter of pride and spirit," I muttered back, head lolling, voice rasping, the instinct that made me keep me mouth shut close to dead. "These people… I can't let him control me. I will never let him or any of the Rockets control me."

There was no reply, but the Machoke looked ever so slightly apologetic even as it and its partner threw me into the room. I lay where I had fallen, not having the energy or strength to move, just letting my blood flow sluggishly onto the metal floor. _Wait a minute… _this place was familiar.

"Holy crap, what happened to you?!"

Titan's yell brought me somewhat back down to earth. Of course… this was the first room I'd woken up in, excluding the operating room. No doubt Titan had come down to see what the commotion had been.

The Skarmory-boy got a bit closer to me and then leaped back with another, much louder, yell: he'd seen the blood, but not the whip-marks that they were running from. Roused by the steel-and-flying hybrid's shouts, Iridium came staggering out into the metal room, looking dozy. It must have been what we considered the middle of the night, although the Sceptile hybrid snapped wide awake the second he saw me.

Everyone else followed at his next bellow: "FREAKING HELL, WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU?!?!"

I looked up at him and said weakly, "Loud."

Rekuna had started to come through the door but had seen me and all the blood and stopped. Pyrite's jaw dropped, revealing sharp canine teeth. I just wanted to fall asleep again, but without Zircon's doctor expertise, I knew I'd probably die. So instead, I tried to move, but ended up coughing up smoke. That Flamethrower had been fun while it lasted, I reflected.

But all the same, ignoring the roaring agony in every inch of my body, I sat up, wincing as I felt badly damaged muscles stretching with the movement and one or two semi-closed cuts pulling back open. Arden and Aisha were staring at me, wide-eyed and shocked.

Iridium knelt beside me and said quietly, "What happened?"

"They want to make us obey," I said slowly. All of the other Pokémorphs, except Iridium, seemed shocked that I had answered him, and even more shocked that I kept speaking after my usual emergency one-word limit. I was almost surprised myself, but I was in too much pain to guard my answers like I normally would. "I wouldn't. They beat me. I still wouldn't. They beat me. I tried to rip the throat of the Tamer out. They beat me. I still defied them. They beat me again. How long have I been gone?" I coughed at the taste of blood in my mouth.

"Three days," said Rekuna abruptly, in a tone that said he would've been happy if I'd never come back. I bared my teeth at him and forced myself to stand up, even though I was quite shaky. I took a step forward and stumbled a little, but didn't fall. I was stronger than that.

I tossed my head, feeling my still-growing blade weighing me down a little. There was blood on it – not mine, either. _Then this power struggle has been happening, on and off, for three days. If you'll excuse me…_ "I'm going to find a fresh shirt." I staggered away, feeling all of their eyes on me and knowing them to be wondering how I could have borne it for so long.

I found a new shirt in a hidden cupboard of my room, and was about to yank it on when there was a flash of pink light and a bundle of bandages and disinfectant swabs appeared in the middle of the floor. I leaped for the door, barely holding in what I considered a swearword, and then peered around the doorframe at the supplies uneasily.

"_Oh calm down."_ I jumped. _"It's just Minta. My Pokémon-morph stage is a psychic type, Zircon told me, so I teleported some of our medical supplies in for you. Figured you'd need them."_ The telepathic voice giggled. She was awfully cynical for a thirteen-year-old.

I moved back into my room. "Thankyou, Minta."

The disinfectant stung, but once I had wrapped bandages around all of my injuries I felt a lot better. Most of the cuts stopped bleeding within minutes and I felt my strength not exactly returning, but at least not draining away with every drop of blood.

I curled up under my bed, thinking. Team Rocket, Team Rocket was doing this, I had been captured by Team Rocket, I was being broken by Team Rocket, I was defying Team Rocket, Team Rocket was killing me. My heart was pounding, not as strongly as usual, and my breath came quickly, in short, pained gasps.

I was in the clutches of Team Rocket. And this time, my sister wasn't around to help me.

I lay still, gulping and panting, trying to calm down, and only glanced up when someone knocked on my door. I instantly stiffened and clamped down on my breathing, 'running silent', and let out a breath slowly, quietly and calmly. I didn't make a sound, but whoever it was came in anyway, and knelt next to the bed, peering under. It took all my self-control not to launch a Flamethrower straight into Iridium's face: the fire came a lot more easily now. I'd taught myself how to use it and now the power was mine. This may or may not have been a good thing.

"'Lo, Atlanta," he said. "You ok?"

I cocked my head to one side and surprised him yet again with a verbal answer. "Why wouldn't I be?"

His glare was enough of a warning and I backed down, too weak to really fight. "Okay, okay, I'm damaged, but I'll be fine. But why do you care? Chances are you'll be next."

Iridium shrugged. "I'm one of the oldest, and I want to keep on eye on you littles. I worry about you shorties."

I glared back, my temper roused. "I'm fourteen! And I'm five foot seven! No way am I short!"

Iridium pumped his fist in the air, leaping to his feet and doing a jig. "Yes! I got your age! Yes! Yes!"

I scowled at him, part annoyed, part amused, and part exasperated, pain forgotten for now. "Am I so tight-lipped that any scrap of information is enough to have you doing the flamenco?"

"And anyway, you're the youngest one here," he continued, settling down as if nothing had happened and he hadn't just done a crazy dance in my bedroom for no particular reason. "Kiesha and Aisha are both sixteen – two years older than you. No one else comes close, so you're the littlest."

"I'm not short!"

"You're the littlest," he teased, intelligently getting out of range.

I let out a playful roar of fury and scrambled out of my den. The Sceptile morph was already running and I bolted after him. Even though I was in pain, I chased him around for a good half-hour before I finally cornered him and began to beat him playfully around the head with a pillow I'd picked up from somewhere. I had no idea our rooms were so big.

It turned into a game of tag. I hadn't played tag in ages. Not since Ruki was last alive.

----

The next morning I jerked awake as a clattering crash echoed through the block. I came out from my den, rubbing my head (I'd smacked it on the bed out of surprise) and peeked into the corridor on my hands and knees, slowly standing up and using the doorframe for balance.

Two men were dragging Arden and Pyrite away from their rooms. My heart skipped a beat and started racing. Arden walked, serene and elegant as always, snootily waltzing out, while the Houndoom-morph was struggling like a fish on a hook. "No! NO!" he screamed. "Let me go!"

I was considering leaping from where I was to help, moving one foot back into a springing position, but someone had snuck up behind me while I was distracted and now gripped my shoulders from behind, stopping me from moving. I went rigid, shaking just a little, until he spoke and I realised that I wasn't about to follow the other two Pokémorphs. "Leave them," Iridium said firmly. "You'll only get yourself more hurt, and you're the youngest here. I'm sorry, but that's not enough to turn the tide of this fight; you're too beat up to go and help a couple of people you don't even like." We and the other Pokémorphs (who had gathered in the passageway) watched them go, peeking nervously through the metal archway. "And if they're busy with those two they can't beat the crap out of you."

The door closed.

"It begins," I whispered ominously, voice flat.

Iridium glanced at me, about to say something, but changed his sentence before it came out. "How're you holding up? You got beat something bad for a kid."

"Fine," I muttered, ignoring the 'kid' jibe. _I found a friend or two with access to the medical supplies. _But I didn't say it aloud, just showed the Sceptile-morph my bandaged arm.

I could tell Iridium was curious but I tuned his questions out, not wanting to reveal the last two Pokémorphs. I don't know why. Zircon was the oldest of all of us, and the most experienced, and Minta had a Psychic-type morph. They could probably handle themselves just fine.

All the same, I didn't mention them to Iridium, and we waited at the door to the cold metal room for a quarter of an hour in complete silence. The others went back to their own rooms, knowing me to be cold and unresponsive to all of them except Iridium (and even him, half the time), and not having anything better to do. I couldn't help wondering what they _would _be doing now. Thinking about what was going on? Worrying if they would be next? Or shoving the incident from their minds and insisting it didn't concern them?

At the quarter-hour mark I twitched and flinched away from the door; a few seconds later it banged open and Arden was pushed back in by the same Machoke who had been manhandling me for the last three days. As they grabbed Rekuna (who had come out to see what the banging was about) and hauled him out the door I noted the Staraptor-morph was actually in pretty good nick, nowhere near as battered as me.

Then again, she'd only had fifteen minutes.

As she picked herself up and stalked out, Arden refused to meet my eyes. There was a rising welt on one cheek, her arms looked bruised and there was blood wetting the feathers on her calves, but that was it.

"She gave up," I said softly, so only Iridium could hear. I trusted the Sceptile-morph, somewhat. He reminded me of my older sister; he was like an elder brother.

Only five minutes after that, they brought Pyrite back. _Wow, they're going through them fast today._ He was in way worse shape than Arden: bleeding gashes on his sides and back told me he'd tried to attack the Tamer and one of his diminutive, black-furred ears was split down the middle.

"I won't let them," he panted, dark brown eyes looking straight at me and Iridium. "They will not control me, never!" He stopped talking and just gasped for air, coughing slightly with each breath.

I frowned slightly as the Machoke physically dragged a yelling Vetos out. He was causing no damage whatsoever: a downside to being a ghost-type, I suppose. _He volunteered for this, what's his problem? But Pyrite, why did they bring you back here? They only brought me back because my body was going to give out before my spirit did._

Iridium voiced my question a few minutes later, obviously after thinking it over, asking, "Why'd they fetch you back so soon? Atlanta was gone for days and she's still fighting, too."

Pyrite opened his mouth to reply but the door opened first, letting a completely unharmed Rekuna through. Four edgy-looking men and the two Machoke followed them and I sighed. I could not summon the will to speak it aloud, instead thinking, _Something tells me it's my turn again._

Sure enough, the two nearest men and one of the fighting types lunged at me, grabbing my limbs and twisting them to get me under control. They forgot about the head blade until I almost took one of them out with it and they had to seize it before I could gore someone. I growled and bit, fighting with all my limited strength, but they still managed to get me out into the metallic hallway I was becoming all-too familiar with.

Iridium was forced out after me, his three captors paying close attention to the angrily glowing leaf blades on his arms and staying clear accordingly.

We were strong, perhaps. But this was hardly what one would call a fair fight and I was injured.

The smell of blood was fresh in that echo-y empty room and the sand disgustingly sticky and damp under my bare feet. Iridium was outside, still fighting his captors, but I shut out the fading sounds of his struggles and bared my teeth at Grant, who looked worn out already, and two other Tamers I didn't know. All of them had blood on their whips.

"Three of your number have already pledged their loyalty to me," said the flat, cold voice from above. My ears were sharp enough to pick up the rumble of a contented Persian from where he was sitting. "A fourth will not take much longer. Three more are being disciplined as we speak in other Taming Arenas. This is all routine to me. But you…" He leaned forwards in his chair: I heard the chair creak slightly and the rustle of cloth. "You, I want to watch personally as they destroy your spirit."

I stood up straight, unintimidated by his implied 'resistance is useless' speech. It's possible I was too stupid to be scared at this stage, but everything I had ever been told flickered in my mind. "You picked the wrong person to experiment on," I said coldly, my voice made bold by pure hatred.

And the three-on-one fight began.

I had to focus. I couldn't let the Absol side of me take over. I had to think. Instincts and reflexes were all very well, but to survive this, to win this, I would need strategy, tactics, knowledge; _human_ intelligence. Because I knew I would never give in to them.

So I'd have to make _them _give up the fight.


	6. Knowledge

Twin2: Next chapter, slight violence, again, but we're over the worst of it and this is the last bit of nasty stuff we'll be seeing for a while. Sorry, but I'm violent, and this story is rated T for a reason.

A new development shows through here, and the plot begins to roll…

----

Six: Knowledge

----

I barely held back a shriek of pain as the whip sliced through my fur, cutting some of it clean off, and bit into my left ear, notching it in a similar way to what Pyrite's had looked like. This was not fair at all!

But life's not fair. I should know that by now, and I should be used to it.

But I was fighting three people at once! Whenever I turned to attack one, another would strike me from behind and distract me! I knew I couldn't hope for another miracle like yesterday's Flamethrower: I'd nearly been killed the first time I did that. I let off a cloud of smoke, though, to pretend I was trying. Let _them _think that I'd lost the ability as my injuries progressed.

But of course, they pulled a surprise out on me. Maybe the Machoke were otherwise occupied (I thought hopefully of Iridium) but three whips made for a very tricky scrap.

One of them coiled around my head blade and snapped taut, dragging my head around and yanking me straight off my feet. The three converged on me with the desperation of men who knew that unless they held me down I was going to tear them apart, and as their boots sharpened in my vision I covered my chest and stomach with my arms.

So the kicks didn't do my ribs much damage: a couple of bruises, _maybe _one or two fractures where they escaped my defence, but my arms were cut up badly by the steel tips. And one final blow was enough to snap my wrist.

I heard the bone break, felt it slide into an unnatural position, saw the arm give way lifelessly, but I was already on my feet before the pain could register and I whipped around. My tail slammed across all three of their bellies, winding the Tamers, as I bolted for the door, hoping for something, anything –

Then the pain kicked in.

It was all I could do not to crumple on the spot and I could not hold in a whimper of pain as my wrist suddenly lit up with a fire more intense than any torture. The agony spread up my arm, reverberating through my chest and echoing in my other limbs.

_Damn, that's the second time the Rockets have broken my arm._

I heard his voice ring out, "She's damaged enough for one day. Put her back in the holding cells and bring the Dragonair-morph."

The guards couldn't get hold of me. I was uncontrollable, unable to think in any way: I was down to instinct, all thought processes destroyed by the pain, and I sensed the people trying to grab me were bad. So I kicked out, moving defensively, retreating and lashing out alternately, my vision actually blurring with pain as I stumbled.

One of them grabbed my wrist and I stiffened, vision blacking out entirely as a haunting howl escaped me, but I didn't faint, or even collapse. Whoever had snatched at my arm had let go again, but the pain continued to throb, blocking out my sight and making me snarl angrily.

I think I_ must_ have passed out, because next thing I knew, I was flying through the air.

I twisted in midair and landed on my back, arm flopping helplessly. This was far worse than the ordinary lashings: this was outright torturous abuse. I couldn't sit up, or move at all. My brain had shut down almost completely, but I still heard the others talking frantically.

"Aisha just went. Titan, you holding out?"

"It'll take more than leather to damage me," came the familiarly cynical grunt. "What'd they do to Atlanta, though? Bloody hell! She looks five times as bad as the first time! And where's Iridium?" Fingers, slightly cold, touched my neck, checking for a pulse, and I flinched involuntarily.

"The Sceptile? He was taken out with her. Guess he held out longer than the Absol," said… Tetra? Yes, it was Tetra. She was… a… Sneasel-morph? I couldn't remember, and it didn't matter…

"She's out cold," someone said, the voice not as familiar than the others. Gentle fingers prodded at my ribs, ignoring my slight effort to curl protectively around my torso. "The pain probably knocked her straight into oblivion; this wrist is badly broken, three ribs are cracked, bruises and gashes everywhere, she's got one heck of a will to live. Freaking hell, this stuff'd kill most humans." Pieces of wood were pressed lightly against my broken wrist as it was measured, then he spoke again, "You two, hold her down. Conscious or no, this is going to hurt her." Then my wrist was pinned into the correct position and I inhaled sharply with the pain, arching my back slightly to escape but not having the strength to do anything else.

Bandages were wrapped hurriedly but tightly around my limb, and I felt strength returning. Odd, when you think about it… But the pain was receding swiftly, even as the other Pokémorphs dressed my cuts and tested the bruises. It was comfortable, just to be lying still, not being attacked or trying to hide.

"They're coming! Iridium must have snapped!"

Someone moved me aside quickly and another person stood in front of me, ready to catch whoever was thrown in. I opened my eyes in time to blurrily register not one but _two _bodies being thrown in, on top of Titan, who collapsed under the unexpected weight. There was a burst of swearing and, even as I flinched at the rude words, I used the confusion to look around without being noticed.

Titan was bruised up a little, but nothing too big. Some of his steel wing-feathers were bent or dented slightly, but there wasn't much blood. I guessed there was too much metal in his system for the leather whips to do much damage: the dents seemed to be caused by steel-capped boots.

Kiesha's insect armour was cracked through in places and bleeding, and one of her wings had a tear in it, but aside from that she was ok, too.

Tetra looked bored and completely unhurt. Either she hadn't been yet or she'd given in straight away.

Iridium was barely conscious, slumped up against the wall where Titan had just shoved him after being stuck underneath, eyes staring blankly at the air, notches cut out of his leaf blades and bloody slashes almost everywhere. He looked bruised, too, but no broken bones.

A tiny girl with pink ears and a tail was huddled on the floor, having just been thrown in.

I swore mentally when I saw what they'd done to Minta.

It was only a few injuries, but the whip cuts were deep and there was shock in her eyes. _Poor kid. She would've been almost totally innocent when she was first caught._ Now she was being introduced to the world.

I sat up, realising that my own pain was gone. It'd be back later, I decided, so best make the best of the current situation. "Who's been?" I asked sharply.

Titan jumped and stared. "Atlanta. You're… awake. Alright. Alive."

I rolled my eyes. _I'm speaking, you mean._ "Who's been?" I repeated, more strongly.

"Just about everyone," said Tetra idly. "Just me to go." Speaking of which, she waltzed out with the Machoke who walked in.

"Kiesha and me haven't given up yet," Titan explained to me, still staring as he poked Iridium dubiously. "They got bored with smacking us around."

"They didn't dare do much damage to Minta," said the someone who'd set my arm, and I recognised his voice this time. "Her morph is a Legendary Pokémon, so they don't dare hurt her too badly in case she loses her temper." Zircon gently tried to pull Minta's tail away from her back, trying to inspect the wounds. She tugged it closer again and flattened her ears away. Undaunted, he instead began to look over her arms, which she allowed him to do, relaxing a little.

"Legendary?" I asked, holding my broken wrist gingerly in case the pain came back. My circumspect manner of speaking had returned. _How the hell did they get ahold of Legendary DNA?_

"They tried to clone the Legendary Pokémon Mew, years ago," the Luxray-morph explained, still calmly checking Minta over, now looking into her ears. The actions seemed to calm her down a little, a routine thing. "The experiment failed, but they kept a sample of the DNA and spliced it – into an eleven-year-old."

I pulled in a shuddery breath and tried to stand up, failing rather miserably. "Eleven?"_ She's only eleven?_

"Twelve now," said the tiny Pokémorph on the floor. "Twelve now, my birthday was about a month ago."

"Guess you weren't the youngest after all," Iridium muttered from his spot, and I glanced at him. No, no broken bones, but he was pretty beat up all the same. "I think they're just trying to determine who's on their side and who isn't. I didn't give up, but they brought me back because they needed the space they were using." He grimaced and put one clawed hand over a cut in his shoulder. "But I don't know how long I can hold up, Atlanta. I don't know how you held out for so long yourself." The Sceptile-morph noticed my splint. "What happened to your arm?"

The pain was coming back and I didn't answer for a moment. Titan took this as a refusal to answer altogether and explained for me, "When she was in there just now they broke her wrist."

"And three ribs. She's badly bruised all over, various cuts, some of which are already bandaged, and she's going to have a wicked shiner tomorrow," Zircon continued, still trying to get Minta to let him look at the whip-cuts.

Iridium swore and tried to stand up, only to fall back with a moan that might have had something to do with Titan prodding his chest. "Bloody hell, he musta ripped into you bad."

"Three," I said quietly. The pain was receding once more and I had my control back. The others didn't understand and I didn't clarify. _Three on one. I didn't have a chance, but their master didn't want me to be dead. Guess he figured a broken wrist would seriously drop my chances of rebelling again tomorrow or later down the track, and he's probably right._

Then I leapt to my feet with a startled curse that made everyone jump. I _never _swore. Heck, I rarely even _spoke. _But here I was going to make an exception. Zircon had finally gotten Minta to let him look at her stomach and back, and boy, they were nasty cuts. They were going to bruise and bruise deep.

I felt a rush of hatred. How could these people _do _something like this to a twelve-year old girl?! None of us, save Zircon, classed as adults and they were trying to destroy us. Anger, pure undiluted anger, rushed through me, and I let my head fall forward to look at the floor, blue-white bangs shielding my eyes, my feet and hands tingling.

"She swore," said Kiesha in shock. She had been completely silent until now. "Shesworeshesworesheswore!" Until now.

"Well I'd swear too at what these monsters did to Minta," Zircon growled, wrapping gauze with an expert hand.

I was furious. How dare they?! This was _beyond _injustice! Minta was still a kid! Me and all of the others were kids, too! We were still so young!

Iridium's eyes were still on me. "No one deserves the treatment we're getting. These people are despicable. Pokémon are no more than tools to them, and even humans are little better. As a combination of the two, we're the lowest of the low to them."

_But we are not tools. We have hopes, we have dreams, we have fears._ I had never been so angry in all my life, and the tingle was spreading to my legs and arms, making them feel slightly numb with the pins-and-needles effect. _We have hopes like humans. We have dreams like humans. We have the powers, the hopes, the fears of Pokémon and we have the minds of both!_

The others fell silent as a Machoke dragged Pyrite out again, no doubt for a fresh 'conversation'. Once the door shut, Minta returned to wriggling slightly at the hands of Doctor Zircon.

"That hurts," Minta whimpered.

"Shh, it's alright," the Luxray-morph told her. "The antiseptic stings because it's stopping you from getting worse. The pain fades quickly. Did you know that Mew had the ability to heal itself? It's possible you have that ability, too. We just have to find it."

"It still hurts!"

Rage. I was beyond angry now. I was human but I was Absol too! Absol… we are not called the Disaster Pokémon for nothing.

There was a sudden jerk, as if from far away, like my heart was being ripped in two.

I threw my head back and howled.

It wasn't the pained cries of earlier, mournful cries of sorrow or wails of pain. It was a howl of hate, fury and rage. The tingle spread and intensified, and pain was beginning to creep into me, but I kept howling, putting all of my strength into the scream.

The others were backing away from me, sensing how dangerous I was becoming, but Minta let out a squeak. "Pyrite just gave up!" she yelled. "He's gone! He's gone to their side!"

That was the final straw. They had broken one of us. Everything felt compressed. It was hard to breathe as I snatched some air, and my skin prickled violently. Anger still burned deep within me. _How_ dare_ they do this to us and then try to control us?!_

The sound changed into a screech of pure hatred and I felt my knees shiver with abrupt pain, the rest of my body beginning to ache. A streak of lightning shot through my spine but I didn't even flinch, and the shriek gave away no more than my fury.

Suddenly it was over and I staggered, yelping in shock as I landed on my splinted wrist. Wait… why was I on all fours? And my hands were totally covered in white fur. As I looked down, I realised that _all _of my skin had been enveloped in silky white fur with a faint blue tinge. My clothes were gone, melted into my skin, at a guess, although bandages were still everywhere they had been before. My claws were bigger, sharper and a lot more dangerous, both back and front. My tail was bigger and overall, I felt quite comfortable despite my wrist. I was built to be on all fours like this.

My head blade was longer now, and sharper, too. I knew what had happened: I had fully transformed into my Pokémon.

I was an Absol.

"What… what just happened?" I tried to ask, but to my frustration no sound came out but "Ab… absol solab?" _Damn you! Stupid genetic coding…_

Iridium knelt down. "Atlanta, can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

"Yes, I'm not an idiot," I snapped tersely, nodding as well to get the point across. My wrist was still splinted, and just as tightly as before. Either Absol have thick limbs or I have thin arms. The rest of my bandages were still on fairly firmly, only a little looser, and Titan winced at the blood seeping through one on my back. But I ignored him in favour of Iridium, who was being more interesting.

"Whoo, whoa, calm down." He held up his hands in a sign of peace. "Cool it. We're half Pokémon, we can still understand you. It's ok."

I nodded and took a deep breath. It would be alright.

Then I scowled, baring my teeth. "No. It won't be ok until we're out of here." They all looked at me with obvious surprise. "They're going to break our spirits completely, unless we die first. I would personally rather die than serve these people. Look at what they did to Minta!" _And I remember what they did to Ruki, and anyone else who defied them. I will remember the sacrifices my sister made, and that everyone else made, trying to stop them, until the end of time._

Zircon nodded sagely. "Of course we would rather. But how can we live normal lives? We're hybrids. We're covered in fur or scales and emit fire or electricity at random intervals. There's nowhere on the face of the planet that will accept us. And they will always be able to track us down again."

I looked up at him stubbornly. "See if you can change your appearance like I just did. Except turn human instead of Pokémon."

Titan glared down at me for a moment while I watched Zircon, and it was the Skarmory-morph who began to change first. His metallic features dulled and skinned over like water soaking through a cloth. Short grey hair grew out from his scalp, becoming longer, and his wing-feathers folded back into his arms. His toes split and split again, separating into human feet.

He blinked and shook his head. He was human again.

Zircon looked shocked. "How did you do that?"

"I just concentrated. On every human thing I'd ever known, every sensation, every sight, every smell, everything I could remember. See if it works for you."

And just a few seconds later, Zircon was human too, although his hair was a shade of blue so dark it would pass for black. "That's not normal," he muttered, running one hand through it. "It used to be blond. There would be some changes, I suppose."

"My turn," Iridium grunted, and he began to change as well. His skin altered colour from its green and sickly yellow to a light tan, and his leaf blades receded into his arms. Within seconds he was completely normal: even his hair was a fairly natural colour, a dark blond.

Kiesha and Minta had both changed back while I was distracted, and the older girl had a ponytail of white-blonde hair sticking out from one side, while the Mew-morph had the pair of pink pigtails she'd worn before.

I nodded deeply, and whispered, as if to myself, "It is time."


	7. Escape

Okay, so it's a little short… sorry! I tried! I promise next chapter will be longer!

And this is important; introduces an element or two that I'm going to have fun with later on…

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Seven: Escape

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Mental note. Never piss off a psychic type.

Minta's fierce mental pressure knocked the door clean out of its sockets. Pokémorphs, it seemed, still retained a lot of power in their human forms. I myself had opted to stay Absol: it was strangely comfortable, despite having to limp very badly to keep my broken wrist – no, foreleg – off the ground.

"You sure you're alright down there?" Iridium asked for the fifth time.

"I'm fine," I said flatly, also for the fifth time, as we bolted down the corridors much faster than you would expect me to be able to go.

What can I say? Absol are very agile Pokémon.

We were running at complete random. No one knew where to go: we just wanted to escape, and somehow, thinking wasn't coming into it. Kiesha half-paused at one crossroad and suddenly jerked her head. "That way," she insisted. "That way, that way, that way!" Not wanting to argue with someone who could turn into a Scyther and cut our heads off, we went her way, and suddenly I found myself sensing something very important, very faintly, as if from far away.

I immediately took off, forcing the others to follow me, but I knew where I was going. A hidden instinct stopped me from taking the wrong turns and I even managed to steer us around a patrol of Rockets who were obviously unaware of our escape. Good news.

I turned a corner and kicked off from the floor, slamming the guard who'd been about to come past in the chin. He was knocked to the floor and knocked unconscious in the space of a few seconds. I grabbed the keys from his belt and yanked them repeatedly until the cloth they were on came loose, then took off running again.

The others came too, swearing over my speed, but I had keys and a sense. An important one.

I slowed to a trot and began to limp badly, but only noticed the pain on a subliminal level. It was being overridden by something much more important, much more significant.

I found the door I knew I was looking for and gave a panting Iridium the key-ring I'd snitched. "Open the door," I said quickly. "Come on, open the door! Hurry up!"

As he fumbled with the keys, finding the right one, I spoke up. "Pokémon, people and Pokémorphs, brace yourselves. This isn't going to be pretty."

I definitely got some funny looks for that, but the smell I was now getting did not smell good at all. And it was so important. I couldn't just ignore it.

Finally the door swung open and I bounded inside, grabbing the keys from Iridium again, the others peering in more cautiously.

Cages. Hundreds and hundreds of cages lined the walls, dark metal. I was already moving along the rows, flinching at the sight of every Pokémon inside them. So few were empty.

"This," I said flatly, around the jangling keyring, "is an example of the atrocities Team Rocket commits on a daily basis. Were any of you Trainers before you were captured?" There was a chorus of affirmative or negative grunts from behind me; I couldn't tell who was who. "Find your Pokémon. They'll be in here somewhere. Me and Minta are going to spring the cages, so be ready."

There were soft curses from nearby: I didn't look up from a triple-bolted and padlocked door that held a dark-eyed Kirlia. As I cut the bolts free with my ever-sharp head blade it glared at me suspiciously, but I instead moved on to the next cage that I knew Minta would have trouble managing.

As I lopped a padlock off another cage, I said, "Minta, find the hinges of all the doors with your power, and destroy them."

She squeaked. "I… I don't know how!"

"Just feel it. Close your eyes and imagine the hinges disappearing, the doors falling to the ground, imagine the clatter, imagine the echoes," I said, my eyes still on the aggressive fire-type Magby in the cage in front of me as I sawed through a particularly stubborn lock and she tried to scratch me. My voice painted the picture for her, and Minta's power spread out, attacking the metal and eating through it like acid through paper.

Hundreds of cage doors fell to the floor, followed by exclamations of shock, both from the Pokémorphs and the newly freed Pokémon. I nodded, smiling and backing away as the Magby darted out of her cage, looking shocked. She looked at me and tilted her head. "Alright, maybe you're not so bad," she said, frowning. I didn't respond.

"Right, everyone!" Titan called, bringing them all back under order. "Follow us. Kiesha knows the way out, although you can thank the Absol for getting you out of the cages." I glared at him.

"Shut up, Titan, we're not out yet," I growled, stalking past. The Magby trotted beside me and all of the other Pokémon did too, more willing to trust random strangers than hang around any longer. They clogged the door somewhat trying to get out, many limping or sporting bruises. There were some I didn't even want to think about what had happened. I felt anger rising in my chest at the sight of the injuries, but I held it back. Anger was dangerous. Emotion was dangerous. Emotion clouded my judgement. I should _know _that by now.

I had known the Pokémon were there, known some of my comrades had probably been Trainers, known these Pokémon didn't deserve to be here, and letting them escape with us was as easy as anything. I couldn't leave them behind. Pokémon were just as human as us.

Maybe more so.

So our only real hurdle was the door itself.

I saw the door and I knew it was our only escape route, the only way out. There were three snoozing security guards and one who was half awake. He came fully awake with his eyes twice the normal size when three bruised and still-bleeding teenagers, a young man, a determined kid, and several hundred Pokémon came pelting around the corner, led by a very battered and very vicious Absol. He reached for his radio, no doubt to call for backup (and lots of it) but I was quicker, headbutting his stomach and making him drop the mike with a clatter as he doubled over, winded. I smacked the side of his head with the flat of my blade, effectively knocking him out.

"Move it!" I hissed, hoping we hadn't made too much noise, and the others leaped into action, trying to wrench the door open. The Pokémon helped too: those with hands or claws grabbed and pulled, vines tried to batter it down, and those who could do neither threw themselves at it.

I rolled my eyes, watching the other three guards anxiously as they began to stir. "Oh, for Celebi's sake, Minta, you're a psychic! Stop using your hands and use your head!"

Suddenly the door flew open, startling everyone. Minta coughed slightly and blushed. "Um… oops?"

I rolled my eyes again.

The Pokémon we had rescued flooded out the door, making altogether too much noise, but somehow, the remaining guards didn't even twitch now. I was starting to wonder if they had been drugged, and if they had, why. But us Pokémorphs followed the creatures out, darting into the forest that had been just beyond the building all along.

Now it was just a mad dash, putting as much distance between us and that horrible place as possible. I sprinted along, putting no weight on my broken leg even though it was still not hurting – I figured the pain'd come back soon enough so I'd best not damage it too much now.

Finally we slowed and stopped in a little clearing and I listened to Titan speaking. "Alright, guys, head on out. Try to find your Trainers again, and if you can't, head to the nearest police station – they'll be able to help you. Good luck, all of you."

I sat and watched the Pokémon melting into the shrubbery, listening mostly for signs of distress from the base. We were still too close for comfort. Eventually we were left with a Manectric, a Chikorita and a Piplup.

"The Manectric was mine," said Iridium softly, kneeling down and rubbing the dog-like electric type. "The Chikorita is Titan's, and the Piplup must belong to…"

"Me," Zircon said firmly, picking her up. "I was worried about you," he told her.

"What should we do now?" Kiesha asked, regarding both me and Iridium in her calm stare. I frowned slightly with surprise. She was looking at us as the leaders! I was the youngest here, aside from Minta, and I was a leader? I could have laughed.

Iridium shrugged slowly, face blank with repressed pain – I recognised the signs. "I don't know. Atlanta?" He turned to look at me tiredly.

What?! When was I voted leader?! Iridium was older, smarter, less injured! I was in serious pain, and now that I stopped to think about it, totally exhausted. But I tried. These people, for reasons beyond me, were relying on me. "I…" I was shaking. Suddenly the enormity of everything that had happened was hitting me, and I was not taking it well. I'd been existing on borrowed time, and the loan was up.

Suddenly my mind opened up and I flattened my ears in surprise, before feeling pain washing over me.

Shoot… this wasn't _my _pain. This was Iridium's: I felt phantom pain in my arms where his cuts and blade notches were, the bruises, the gashes. And Titan's bruises and dents, Zircon's wounds and Minta's whip-cuts, all in layers. I felt all of it.

My friends were suddenly stretching, exclaiming over the lack of pain, but I could barely stay conscious. How did… how did they stand this? Pain… How could they have felt all this but kept running?

Blackness was rushing in on me, and I accepted it. Blackness was good. It hid me from enemies… It took away the pain… pain that wasn't even mine… I could hide in the darkness and no one would ever find me… darkness was friendly; the shadows were my friends… darkness was safety…

But the pain refused to go away even as I collapsed yet again.


	8. Olivine

Eight: Olivine

Okay. I am really, really sorry for the delay. My creative spark went completely nuts in the last month, so I've now got… what was it, fourteen new story plots noted down? Man, that was one hell of a migraine. So, my writing (and then editing) took a lot longer than I would have hoped. Couple it with school and other random crap, and suddenly you don't have a whole lot of spare time… Sorry! I'll try not to let it happen again…

Eight: Olivine

I was moving… no, _I _wasn't moving, someone was carrying me.

"Does anyone have _any _idea where we are?" Titan growled from somewhere behind me.

"Nope, nuh-uh, no clue, nada, zip," said Kiesha calmly; she was also nearby.

"The base was near a town," Zircon panted. "I think it was… Olivine City. Yeah, that was it."

Olivine… that was in Johto. _Johto… but why there? Here? Whatever? Why not in Kanto, their stronghold?_

"Does it have a Pokémon Centre or a police station?" Iridium asked urgently, and I realised that it was him carrying me.

"Yes, both," Zircon answered swiftly. "We'll be able to get help from there. Atlanta's not in a good enough shape for us to wait for her to wake up, go human and then get treatment – I've never seen any creature so badly hurt. I don't know how she's still alive." His voice was grim. "I saw some cruelty case Pokémon before I joined Team Rocket, and most of them died of injuries half as bad as hers. She's got a will to live like none I've ever seen before." _Evidently you never met my sister, when she was still alive… If you think_ I'm _stubborn…_

"And what were you planning to do if – no, that'd be a_ when_ – I woke up in the Centre and panicked?" I heard myself asking, and felt Iridium stumble out of shock.

"Atlanta, are you okay?" he asked urgently, recovering and dashing onwards – I felt the wind stirring my fur. "You just collapsed, scaring us all half to death, I might add."

"I…" I had to pause and retake control over my mind, trying unproductively to block out the pain, but I was at least succeeding in ignoring it. "I think…" No, it was too weird. I'd leave it for later. "Sorry. Guess it overwhelmed me."

"You need to tell us these things," the Sceptile-morph said sternly. "We can't take care of you if we don't know what the problem is."

I opened my mouth to retort sharply, but bit it back instead and turned my head away. I let my eyes open and registered that we were running in a cluster, much faster than they had been with me on the ground. Minta was on Zircon's back, and the other three were travelling easily over the uneven ground in their bare feet, even though Iridium was hampered by me.

The sun was just breaking over the horizon, somewhere vaguely ahead and off to the left. "How long have I been out?" I wondered, not realising I spoke aloud before Iridium answered, "All night. Zircon says we should hit the town soon."

I cursed myself silently, _silently, _this time. I was better than that, talking aloud for no reason!

But even though I wanted to keep my silence, I just had to break it to ask, "What are we going to tell the police and the Pokémon Centre?"

"The truth?" Minta suggested meekly.

"Sure, why not?" said Titan snappishly. "Then everyone back at the Rocket base gets busted and we get stuck in a _zoo_." I winced: did he have to be that harsh?

"The truth, yes, but not all of it," said Iridium firmly as he kept running. I closed my eyes and listened to his argument: "We tell them enough to make them go and check it out, but not enough to make them suspicious of us. Sound like a plan?"

There were grunts of agreement from all around me, before Iridium added, "You okay with that idea, Atlanta?"

I wanted to answer, really I did, but I just felt so _tired. _And hurt. All of my – and the others' – aches and pains were coming back full force. All in all, it felt like I'd been stepped on by a Snorlax, trampled by a herd of Tauros, and then, to top it all off, gotten run over by a van trucking angry Shelgon. It was a fight just to stay awake… a fight I was losing…

"Atlanta?"

It couldn't be possible for me to be in so much pain…

"Atlanta!"

How many times was I going to fall into this darkness, I found myself wondering as it crept over me in a blanket, muffling the outside world. How many times would I just crumple under the stress?

Man, I was so not a normal teenager.

My last thought before I fell underneath the darkness again was nothing more than laughter.

My eyes snapped open before I was even fully conscious, so that the human standing over me lurched away with a yelp. Instantly every muscle in my body tensed: _I couldn't sense Iridium or the others._

Almost before I could think about it I leaped off the table and went sprinting down a tiled corridor, racing at top speed and ignoring how my broken wrist – foreleg – was now numb, difficult to move properly, and very cumbersome. It didn't hurt, and that was as far as I cared. I caught a faint whiff of a familiar scent and went skidding down the new passageway, hearing footsteps pounding behind me as two humans tried to keep up, followed by a thud as one failed to make the turn.

I dashed down a straight stretch of tile, pricking my ears as I heard a familiar voice saying, "You seriously don't know what you're dealing with when you're dealing with her, she'll rip the place apart!" and a calm, firm voice replying, "I'm sure it's all under control, sir, now please sit down."

"I'll show you under control!" I howled, and leaped into the room, straight at Iridium.

He seemed to be expecting it and caught me easily, already checking my broken leg. "Now look at this, you," he told me sternly. "You'd think you wanted this thing broken, hey? At least you stayed long enough to get it splinted properly."

Ah. That's why it felt so cumbersome. And numb. There were proper splints holding the bones in place, along with tighter, harder wrapping than Zircon's first-aid, but that wasn't why it didn't hurt. That was anaesthetic.

I looked around the room: the walls were a funny cream-coloured plasterboard and a window to the outside showed night just falling. All of the others were there, Zircon with a sleeping Minta huddled on his lap, Titan leaning against the wall and Kiesha sitting on a chair, all of them (save Minta) watching me with expressions of either mild surprise or slight amusement. I relaxed. They were all safe.

Then I frowned slightly, ignoring Iridium, who was still checking me over and insisting to the nurse that no, she would not be able to take me. Why did I care about my companions now? I had always been a loner, never really minding what happened to anyone else. I shrugged mentally, putting the problem aside for another day when a nurse was not trying to take me away from my comrades again.

I growled at her, tensing up again and flattening my ears. No way was I going anywhere! Iridium chimed in with my snarling, saying, "Please, ma'am, just leave her here. She won't cause any problems and she's been through enough already. I think she doesn't want to get split from us again." I let up on my growls, glancing at him. How had he picked that much up from a basic string of gibberish?

"See?" he said. "You'll be good, won't you? No blowing anything up?" I nodded, adding, "As if I can blow anything up yet. I only learned Flamethrower a few days ago!"

The nurse seemed to acquiesce, not having understood me (although Iridium winced), and finally left. I sighed. "Right, what's been going on?"

"We hit Olivine about two hours after you blacked out again," Iridium explained as he carefully put me back on the floor. "We only got into the Pokémon Centre a little while ago, you got taken away to get looked at, and we got put in here to get treated. We were all starting to feel our wounds something bad so it was about a half-hour before I figured out they'd taken you off to get looked at." He grimaced. "Sorry."

"Meh, no harm done," I said placidly, sitting down_. Although one of the two people who were chasing me may have hit a wall a little harder than is recommended for good health. _But I didn't say that aloud, instead asking, "So, what story have we told these guys and where do I fit in?"

"We were captured by Team Rocket and they tried to force us into their service, which is true enough, and explains the damage. You were a wild Absol they had caught and were trying to break, but you helped us escape and came with us when we left and sprung all those other Pokémon," Iridium explained.

"They haven't figured out that… what we are, then?"

He shook his head mutely. I stood up again to look around the room, checking everyone for any more injuries, but they all looked fine, cuts already bound up in bandages and most of the blood cleaned off.

"Where are your Pokémon?" I asked the three Trainers of our group, and Iridium lifted his shirt a little, showing me the Pokéball on his belt, which presumably held his Manectric. Zircon tapped a pocket and Titan merely opened his hand, showing me the orb he held there. Probably hadn't let go since we left, I realised, but I had to wonder where the Pokéballs came from. Mind you, it didn't really matter. What mattered was our safety, and the future. The past gives advice, the future gives hope, and the present gave us a chance.

I started to pace the room, only now beginning to wonder tiredly what was going to happen now. "Atlanta, if you keep walking on that leg, it'll never heal," Titan commented. I ignored him. "D'you want Nurse Joy to tie you to a bed?"

That got my attention. Immediately it was as if I was flooded with the same pain as I had when I very first woke up in the Rocket base and I whipped around to face him, going low to the ground and flattening my ears, backing away until I hit a wall, and then sat there shivering, breathing heavily.

Iridium sighed faintly. "Now look what you've done. Atlanta, it's okay, he was only joking. Titan does that, a lot."

I shook my head silently, teeth chattering, and tried to back away further, hiding in a corner formed by a chair and the wall. How could a _memory _hurt so much?! Iridium frowned slightly and knelt, looking straight into my eyes. "Atlanta, it's okay," he said firmly. "We're okay here. No one is going to hurt us; you don't have to worry."

The door suddenly slammed open, and that was too much for my already-strained nerves. I let out a yelp and darted underneath a sofa, hiding in the space that looked far too small to accommodate an Absol.

Iridium sighed again and moved to peer under the sofa, informing whoever had opened the door, "Now you've spooked her. Now see here, Atlanta, come out of there before you hurt your ribs!"

I glared at him, still shaking, but his voice calmed me down a little. Weird. But I guess I thought of him as a big brother now, and if he was there, it would be alright. His voice had the same dark, faintly sarcastic quality like my big sister's used to have, so I guess I associated him with her, and she had never, ever let me down. He stood up suddenly, turning around to look at who was behind him.

I wriggled to the front of the sofa, only just now wondering how the heck I'd gotten under here in the first place, and peeked out from under it.

Officer Jenny was standing there, looking at Iridium and Titan – _when did he come over? _– calmly, with a hint of pity in her eyes, tinged with sadness.

"I need a report of what happened to each of you," she was saying, "so if you'll just come with me–" She moved to take Titan's wrist and I snarled, shooting out from under the sofa to stand between them, and glared up at Officer Jenny fiercely. The other Pokémorphs all drew back slightly at the raised hand, watching it warily, all of them keenly remembering whip slashes and hard blows, but I stood carefully between them and her, ignoring the streak of fear the sight of the hand brought.

She didn't seem scared – a little surprised, maybe, but that was it. "Who's this?" she asked, scrutinising my various bandages and the splint of my forepaw. "Why is she in here with you?"

"She was caught by the Rockets as well," Iridium explained. "She copped the worst injuries out of all of us. Zircon says she ought to have died, but she fought on and kept us all going until we were out of there." He couldn't stop a shudder at the memory, and Kiesha looked at the floor. "While we were in there, we thought she'd never trust anyone, but now, I guess she's sort of guarding us."

He knelt, and I kept an eye on Officer Jenny as he held out a hand to me. Then he let out a soft, rippling near-growl, and I looked at him fully in surprise. I considered what he was trying to tell me through his eyes, thought about whether I would actually do it, and finally decided that I could probably jump fast enough to remedy the situation if I had to, before I limped over to him and sat at his feet as he stood up.

"The…" he gritted his teeth and seemed to force the words out, although I knew it was more of an act to make Officer Jenny wonder what had gone on there, "Rocket base we were held in is to the north-west, about…" the Sceptile-morph trailed off. "Titan, how far was it? I can't remember."

"About… seventy to a hundred k's," Titan answered, squinting in concentration. "That sounds about right."

The female police officer nodded, now taking a seat in a nearby chair. "Right. Now, do you feel up to answering a few questions for me?"

"It depends what they are, but we'll do our best," said Iridium quietly.

"Can you describe the facility?"

Titan shook his head. "Not from the outside. We were kind of running for our lives the only opportunity we got to see it."

"I saw it," said Kiesha, surprisingly calm. She was usually rather hyper – _was that just her way of dealing with imprisonment?_ I wondered. "Grey stone, large bricks, few to no windows, solar panels on the roof and a satellite dish, open field about a hundred metres any direction, razor wire boundary." At the funny looks we were all giving her, she shrugged and said, "You were making tracks, I was guarding our backs."

"Man, am I glad to have you on our side," I commented, and her eyes slid over to me for a second, sparkling with laughter.

"Were there any others in there with you?"

We all went still, and I could see the indecision on everyone's faces. Before I could register deciding to speak, I said, "There were others but they are sworn to the Rockets now. There were Pokémon as well, but we escaped with them." Of course, Officer Jenny didn't understand me, although I saw Iridium nodding surreptitiously and repeating what I'd said, in English.

Jenny didn't seem to notice that they had understood me and moved on, saying, "Can you describe any of the Rocket members who were involved with your treatment?" At that, we all shuddered, Kiesha breaking eye contact to look at the floor and Zircon wincing slightly.

The human-looking Pokémorphs exchanged glances, from their expressions, trying to gather courage from each other. I recognised the signal as something I'd seen other people doing: drawing on friendship to pull you through.

But I wasn't really occupied with that. Instead, I was paying more attention to a tingling sensation in my claws, my head blade, my tail… and it was spreading. It wasn't quite painful, but definitely uncomfortable.

Then the realisation of the instinct hit me like a lightning bolt and I leaped to my feet with a howl of shock. Totally ignoring Officer Jenny at this stage, I yelped to Iridium, "They're coming!"

His head jerked around so fast I thought he might get whiplash. "What?"

"They're coming after us!" I shouted. Forget surreptitious, forget hiding, forget secrets, _we needed to run!_ "They want us back, they're coming! We have to get out of here!"

At this, everyone leaped to their feet with various shouts. Minta jerked awake and tumbled to the floor, staring at me in terror. "Are you sure?" Titan demanded, taking a step towards me.

I stiffened and growled, nodding furiously and blinking, trying to get rid of the feeling of being enclosed. I backed away a little, now starting to shake my head as my head blade tingled frantically.

"How many of them are there?" Zircon barked, eyes glued to me. I suddenly realised I had backed into the wall, still shaking my head. Officer Jenny was demanding answers, but we were all ignoring her, and she wasn't bothering us any aside from the noise. I couldn't answer him. My stomach was starting to ache, my head blade burned and my claws just felt plain _weird._

"Atlanta," said Iridium quietly. "Can you tell us how many there are, or what direction they're coming from?"

His voice calmed me down a little, again. "There's about… about a hundred of them, may – maybe more," I managed to stammer out, closing my eyes and gathering information from the hidden instincts. "Six Pokémon each, all of them. We have _got _to get out of here." The burning tingle was _aching. _No wonder Absol were driven to warn people of disasters; this feeling would drive them crazy otherwise!

"Do you know which way they're coming from?" Iridium repeated, gently.

"Same way we did," I answered, more steadily. "They'll be here –" I half-choked for a second – "in under an hour. Best options, head north-east to Ecruteak," I swallowed, "or follow the coast around to Goldenrod."

He nodded. "Thanks." The Sceptile-morph stood up and told Officer Jenny, "The Rockets are coming after us. About a hundred of them, from the north-west. Our Absol sensed it, and they're closing in fast. We have about…"

"Forty-five minutes or so," I decided, opening my eyes.

"Forty-five minutes," Iridium repeated.

Officer Jenny put her hands on her hips and glared at us. "How is it that you kids can understand that Absol?" she asked.

Iridium shrugged. "We don't know. It might have been something they did to her, or us, in there, because we can't understand any of the others." That I knew to be a lie. I hadn't heard him talking to other Pokémon; it was just instinctive. I knew he was lying, to throw her off the scent. "All I know is that if she's this freaked, we're in trouble."

She scowled. "I find that hard to believe. I think you should come with me–" she reached out to grab Iridium and I snarled, warning her of the implications. The Sceptile-morph had flinched at the raised hand again, but didn't back away; he was too proud for that.

"We have to get out of here," said Titan edgily. "If they get us back, we'll probably get ripped apart for escaping. They broke _your_ leg for biting someone," he addressed me, "and you've done worse since."

I grinned inwardly, keeping my face impassive. He had no idea. He was bluffing, but he did know that I bit people and I came back with my arm, leg, whatever, broken that last time.

Then the tingle got worse.

It honestly felt as if someone was trying to force needles through my head blade, on top of the sensation of it being stuck into hot coals. It's not amazingly sensitive, but if someone was actually trying to do that, I would notice. And I was noticing it now.

It hurt now, and it was worse than the Tamers… well, not quite, but it rivalled them. At least with them I could fight back! I had a target, a goal, but here, there was nothing!

I gritted my teeth. So I'd make a goal instead. And my goal was not to give away how much this _hurt_ to the others.

The police officer didn't seem too keen on letting us just bolt off, but I wasn't paying much attention to her arguing with Iridium and Titan; I was watching and listening to Zircon whispering something to Minta. The girl shook her head, then nodded, then shook it again, and finally nodded strongly and turned her emerald-eyed gaze on Jenny. For a minute nothing changed, before I felt waves of energy rolling off Minta, directed at the older woman, and while I didn't feel concerned at all, I was curious.

My silent question was answered as Officer Jenny suddenly slumped over, completely unconscious, and I half-smiled. Hypnosis. Useful technique, that.

I focused a little, just a little, and suddenly I was growing taller, standing on two legs, and I felt a whole lot stronger. I was back in my human/Absol cross form. Iridium blinked at me. "Go whole human," he said sternly. "You'll attract a lot of attention like that."

I nodded, although right then I was more focused on the fact that my clothes had reappeared (thank goodness) and that my bandages were a little too tight. Not enough to cut off circulation, just enough to be annoying.

But going fully human took a lot of effort. I had to concentrate on everything human I knew, focus on changing into that, while the others edgily checked the window repetitively for signs of the Rockets approaching.

It hurt a little; my bones were changing position and my body was rearranging itself, but nowhere near as much as it _should _have hurt. My head blade receded into my skull and my tail into my spine, and my fur was all absorbed into my skin, which was a very weird feeling. Tickled like hell.

Eventually I made it fully human, and my head felt oddly light. Plus, I didn't feel anywhere near as strong, as confident as I did in my hybrid form.

For just a second, we looked at each other grimly, before Zircon slammed the window open and we bolted.

I could run a lot better on two legs with my wrist broken, but I wasn't as fast as the others. I could tell they were slowing down just to accommodate me, and as we sprinted through the streets as fast as I could go (Minta was riding Zircon's back again), I felt annoyed. The asphalt felt strange under my bare feet and my ears felt weird after a week of being able to move them around, not to mention I felt half-deaf.

In ten minutes we had managed to get clear of the city and were running through fields, travelling instinctively in a cluster. I couldn't hold my human shape for any longer, and as we ran, let it shift back to hybrid. No one was out here to see us, I reasoned, and now I could go a lot faster.

Iridium glanced at me with confusion when we sped up, and he frowned at my hybrid form, but his face softened as I panted, "Couldn't hold human. Sorry."

"S'okay," he said, "You haven't had as much practice as us with the human form, and it's harder when we're concentrating on other important stuff, like running for our lives."

I could believe that.


	9. Safety

Nine: Safety

A little short again, but it could've been worse. And again, sorry for the wait for these chapters; you really have to hate education sometimes… by the way, if anyone, ANYONE at all, can give me a practical application for quadratics, could you let me know?

--

Nine: Safety

--

One by one, we all shifted back to hybrid as we ran, and I didn't have trouble keeping up like I had before, now loping easily behind Iridium. Zircon (and Minta) was on my left, Titan my right, and Kiesha was behind us all, bringing up the rear and checking behind us occasionally.

Iridium slowed for a second as we entered a forested area and glanced back, green eye-ridges giving him a serious look, as he kept running and said in a slight gasp, "This is a forest somewhere to the west of Ecruteak; I don't know the exact position."

"Does that mean we're lost?" Titan asked, deadpan.

"We want to be lost," Kiesha informed him. "If we're lost then it's harder for _them _to find us. Comprendo?"

"Was that Spanish?" Titan asked confusedly.

_I think so,_ I thought, not saying it aloud. _I don't do foreign languages much._

That was the last time anyone spoke for quite a long while.

I blinked, trying to get my eyes to focus through a haze of exhaustion. It was later. How much later? I couldn't tell. It was still dark, and we were still running. I envied Minta, who was still getting piggybacked. Me, I was not going to be able to keep this pace for much longer.

So when Iridium pulled to a stop in front of me in a forested area and whispered that we could sleep here, it was a relief to collapse on the ground and pant, falling backwards to stare blankly at the sky. None of the others was as bad as me; but then, I was two years younger than them.

I had no idea where we were. It was eons from any form of civilisation, I knew that much: I had never seen so many stars in all my life. For several minutes I stared at the patterns the silver dots made in the dark blue overhead, coughing every now and then as I got my breath back, before I struggled to sit upright again, my breath more or less even.

Sometime during our dash for freedom we'd all shifted back to our hybrid form. Minta had been deposited on the grass, where she was curled up with her tail curving around her stomach and neck. Kiesha was asleep, too, against the base of a nearby tree, with her blades resting upright in the dirt at her feet. Titan was asleep standing up – no joke. He was leaning against a tree like Kiesha, but actually on his feet and snoring slightly. Zircon was half-awake, watching the clearing and the rest of the sleeping Pokémorphs, and Iridium…

He looked wide awake. His clear blue eyes were scanning the surrounding area, as if watching for danger. His arms were crossed, the leaf blades fanning out a little, and his clawed feet were digging into the ground a little, I noted. We might be eons away, but he was still nervous.

I was, too, I realised. This was a dangerous world we lived in right now. There was only going to be so long we could spend in towns before we lost control and went hybrid again.

I moved a little closer to Iridium and asked softly, "How can we change…" I bit my tongue, "from being a hybrid…" I let my claws bite into the palm of my hand and kept talking steadily, "to being human or Pokémon again? I mean, shouldn't we be changed…" I clenched one fist more tightly, overpowering my emotions, "forever?"

His eyes flicked down to me as he shook his head. "It's a matter of willpower and control," he explained, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake the others. "Our human or Pokémon DNA can overpower the other, if we can hold the effects in place with our willpower. That's why you couldn't hold it once we started running: because our hybrid shapes are natural to us now."

The Sceptile-morph turned his head to look behind us. "When we were escaping from the base, we were all in our hybrid forms. We couldn't hold the human state for long enough, and–"

"Hybrid's stronger," I interrupted. "Nearly kicked a hole in my wall… earlier."

He nodded emphatically. "Exactly. Our hybrid is natural, but we override either set of DNA for a while to look as if we're pure. With practice it'll get easier. I hope," he added in an undertone I wasn't supposed to hear, but did anyway.

I bit my lip, still curious, but my mind was already drifting onto different subjects and I crossed my arms and looked at the bandage on my wrist, the fur uncomfortably ruffled underneath it, just thinking for a few minutes.

"…Hey, Iridium."

"Yes?"

"Why weren't we medical experiments?" I asked slowly and emphatically, looking at a dark bruise in the crook of my arm. It was barely visible through the fur, but definitely there. Zircon jerked fully awake and moved a little closer, frowning slightly.

"What do you mean? Why do you ask?" Iridium sounded confused, and a little apprehensive. I held my arm out and pointed to the mark. Immediately the Sceptile-morph knelt and took hold of my arm gently, shifting the fur carefully, frowning at the bruise, and asked, "Are there marks like this anywhere else?"

I flinched as his fingers spanned the purple mark, trying not to tense up. "Other arm, wrists, left shoulder, right calf, and there was one on my neck the last time I looked. Can't see it now."

Iridium let go of my wrist with a sigh and a scowl. "Guess we didn't notice because of all your other bruises and the fact we barely saw you."

I shrugged noncommittally – they hadn't noticed the bruises because I tended to stand with my arms crossed and my head a little down – and Zircon spoke up. "I don't think it's anything to worry about – it's just where… where they injected you with the virus that spliced your genes with Absol genes."

I blinked. "Virus?" _There's a virus running around in my blood? Isn't that, y'know, unhealthy?_

My apprehension must have showed through in my expression – _I'm getting rusty at that _– as Zircon quickly explained, "No, it's not like that – it's not a normal disease. They developed a virus that would fuse the chromosomes in your blood, stem cells and the rest of your body with the genetic pattern of an Absol. Then, they injected you with the virus and let it run its course. The virus attacked all of your full-human genes and contaminated them, converting all of them to Absol-human genes, thus making you a Pokémorph. Their properties changed into the cells needed for a Pokémorph instead of a human. So when we revert to either state, we're still Pokémorphs. It's just that the surface appearance of all the changed cells is hidden below the surface by our willpower." (A/N: Wow, that actually made sense to me. We studied genetics last year, so I got that. Did anyone else?)

Iridium nodded, looking slightly confused. "All of us had those marks, at least some of them, when we first woke up; except for that neck one, Atlanta," he added.

Zircon shrugged. "Like I said, the human body usually rejects Absol DNA. She probably needed an extra dose because her regular fully human cells were destroying the virus."

I frowned. I'd understood about forty percent of all that. "Why weren't we medical experiments?" I repeated.

Zircon jerked his head up at the sky, although the movement was meaningless to me. "They've already had medical experiments through. All of them died because they couldn't handle the constant _experimentation_. I'd guess that they didn't need any more medical experiments, or maybe their boss got impatient. But whatever the case, the scientists got enough information to produce us. The fighting version."

I nodded silently, digesting that information. "Why us?"

"Why do you keep asking questions?" Iridium asked wearily.

"Because Sis always told me to ask what I needed to know, and if no one would tell me, to find out for myself," I shot back. "Now answer it. Why us? Why teenagers and not all adults? Why _us, _why not the other kids we used to know or something? Why not adults, who're bigger and stronger than we are?" I pulled my knees close to my chest, a little cross with myself for lashing out like that, giving them a hint about my older sister. Not that it would matter…

"It's more difficult for adult DNA to accept the mutations," Zircon explained. "It's already finished developing, and the stem cells are difficult to alter. There were lots, potentially hundreds, of adults who were experimented on, but none other than me survived – and I was the youngest. Their immune systems were either too strong, and halfway overpowered the virus, leaving their bodies to tear themselves apart over the half-converted cells, or too weak, and the virus caused irreparable damage to their bodies that was not supposed to happen, and was fatal. Or, the DNA refused to meld properly, and the experiment literally came apart after a few weeks." His eyes were solemn. "They tried upping and lowering the dosage, but nothing worked. Eventually they started on teenagers and children, and it worked perfectly. Even you, when your system started overpowering it; they dosed you again and it still worked."

"As for why _us,_" Iridium added quietly, "we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or we knew the wrong people. They only knew the volunteers' names, and they never called them by their names, anyway."

I swallowed. Which one applied to me? Wrong place, or wrong people?

I tried to shove the thought from my head, instead asking, "What're we going to do now?"

Iridium sighed and collapsed onto the grass, the mere thought of the question making him tired. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "Run, I suppose. Run until either we're safe, or we can't run any more. But here, for now, for a few hours, we're safe, at least."

I nodded, starting to feel sleepy now, and let my head rest on my knees and my eyes flutter shut. There was a voice that sounded suspiciously like Ruki muttering in my mind, _"Nowhere is safe for long,"_ but I ignored it.

For a little while, we were safe.


	10. Past

--

Since the previous chapter was short, I decided to put this one up sooner than I'd first planned. But eh; it's been edited at least twice, so I'm clear.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Winging It chapter demanding attention…

--

Ten: Past

--

My eyes snapped open and I raised my head off my knees. None of the other Pokémorphs was in immediate view and I leaped to my feet: possibly a mistake, as my vision suddenly caved in. For about twenty seconds I was completely blind until everything flickered back into focus.

I shook my head, blinking until I could focus my eyes properly again, then stretched my shoulders back, sniffing the air gently and twitching at a pulled muscle extending. The others were still nearby, I figured out, I just hadn't been able to see them or sense them at first. Kiesha was trotting over to my right, her feet sounding slightly different to everyone else's and the faint scent I could catch from there confirming it. Zircon and Minta were berrying somewhere close by; Titan was, I now realised, a full Skarmory and flying overhead, scanning the area. I hoped he could hold the form long enough to get back on the ground.

But where was Iridium? I could only catch some of his scent from the night before – either he was too far off for me to sense, or…

I glanced up and glared at his grinning figure in the tree above me. "You're evil," I informed him. _You could have saved me a minor panic attack just then._

"Really?" he said, looking down with wide, innocent eyes. "I figured you could use your sleep." Then he ditched the falsely contrite look and added, "Besides, you tried to bite Titan when he tried to wake you up a couple of hours ago. After that none of us really wanted to risk it."

I smirked. It's been a while since anyone had to wake me up. "Still, you could have been down here when I woke up," I retorted. I thought with an internal frown, _Why would I try to bite someone just for trying to wake me up? I must have been really out of it. _"I couldn't see any of you."_ I thought something had happened._

He jumped down from his tree, landing quite easily, and smiling down at me. "I've noticed you tend to freak if you feel boxed in or surrounded," Iridium explained lightly, tracing one of the healing notches in his leaf blades. "I decided to keep out of the way." He traced a circle in the air with his finger, remarking, "Zircon was right. That is one heck of a shiner."

I decided that this didn't need an answer and asked instead, "What's going on?"

The Sceptile-morph shrugged. "We're staying here for a while, I suppose. We don't have any other destination, and we can't keep up this pace for long anyway – Zircon's carrying Minta, but he's pretty strong and she's pretty light, and you're still hurt. Don't argue," he added warningly, poking the black crystal in my forehead with his finger, even though I hadn't made any move towards arguing yet. "You were beat up bad, and you need some healing time. Running all over the country is not going to help."

He put his hand down when I made no argument, evidently relieved, but I hadn't had my say yet. And he wasn't going to like my say. "My vague wellbeing versus your five lives. Leave me behind."

It was a half-challenge. He whipped back around to face me, obviously shocked at the suggestion, but my blank face convinced him I was serious and not joking or something. I could see the revelation settling into him and waited patiently for him to find his voice again.

It was always like this.

"No way can we leave you behind," he said harshly, shaking his head irregularly. "We're in this together, Atlanta. We can't just abandon you, same way we couldn't leave Zircon or Kiesha or Minta or me or Titan. We will never leave you to the Rockets – they'd tear you apart in seconds. How can you even _say _that?"

"My life versus your five," I retorted quietly, and turned away, slipping into the cool shadows of the trees.

I guess I'd shocked Iridium with what I'd said. That was good; I'd intended to. His reactions had been fairly predictable, I admitted to myself as I sat gingerly on the ground near a little stream about a kilometre away from our clearing.

But it would be better for them if I wasn't around. It was just my luck to get fused with an Absol: now, whether I was human, Pokémon or hybrid, I'd attract plenty of attention, attention we didn't need. If the others just left me behind then they wouldn't be in any danger.

Me? I can take care of myself. I'm quite happy on my own out here – I'm like my sister in that respect. No friends to bail out of trouble except myself, and I preferred it that way. I flattened my ears a little and leaned back, jerking forward as my various whip-weals twanged painfully. Was that why I was trying to push them away like this? Because I was a loner at heart, even more than my sister, who'd gladly disappear for days and weeks at a time and then drop back in when you least expected and most needed her? Because I was too stubborn for my own good?

_Because it's dangerous._

I sniffed disdainfully and curled my legs up to my stomach, wincing at the pull on strained muscles. _I think my sister taught me something for pulled muscles,_ I thought, standing up shakily and rubbing my splinted wrist. Carefully, I stretched out my leg muscles, and it hurt after their long pounding last night. I remembered her warnings not to overstretch and didn't push it past a little bit of pain – and anyway, the aches faded after a few seconds. I did my arms and neck, stretching my broken wrist and getting a nice sharp twinge in response and feeling a definite screech of pain from my neck.

Very, very gently, I stretched my sides and my stomach, unable to hold in a few squeaks of pain as I tugged on various injuries, but when I began to stretch my back, I just collapsed.

Pain roared in my ears and for a few seconds I just lay still, flattening my black-furred ears against it and digging my claws into the turf. It faded, and I tried to stand up, wanting to finish my stretches, but my legs were shaking and I slipped, crumpling onto the grass again.

My back _caned. _It really stung, and I didn't have the willpower to ignore it right then. Underneath the whip's vicious stinging the muscles in my back and shoulders were burning and cramping up tightly, and there was something else; a searing ache, a dull agony, something I couldn't identify and didn't really care about. It was blurred in the face of the rest of the pain.

My vision came back into focus a few minutes later as the pain dulled to a rough throbbing. But this time I didn't try to stand up again until it was all but gone, only the faintest of sensations at the edge of my consciousness.

I sat up, blinking dazedly at the grass for a few seconds, before crawling over to the stream and staring into it.

I looked at my reflection, broken up by the flowing ripples of the water. I pieced together all the little flashes. Skin, eyes, hair, fur, black, cream, white, blue. Familiar face, although a little paler than normal after my time with the Rockets, still bruised in places. Long bluish white hair, complete with several bangs that liked to fall over my face when I tipped my head forward. Expressionless icy blue eyes, slightly rimmed with pained tears. The black eye Iridium had mentioned. White fur on my neck; black fur on my pointed, mobile ears. Crystal of ebony set in my forehead, and the long, razor-sharp head blade of an Absol.

There were voices behind me, from a long way off, and I turned my ears backwards, homing in on them and hoping in time with my suddenly racing heartbeat that it wasn't Rockets.

Iridium's familiar voice, arguing with Titan, reassured me. I was still curious, and listened in. So eavesdropping is bad. It's the only way to learn anything around here if Iridium won't give me a straight answer.

"Why are we back here? I thought you wanted me to scan!" Titan growled.

"I did, but right now it's Atlanta."

"What's up with her?" the Skarmory-morph asked immediately, some of the growl leaving his voice.

"She's… well…" Iridium seemed to be having trouble phrasing it. "She told me that… she told me that we should… should leave her behind because she's holding us back."

Titan snorted, unimpressed. "So? She's a kid – she probably wasn't serious and I'll bet she didn't know what she was talking about, anyway. She might be fourteen but she looks more twelve."

Iridium sighed and tried to speak again, but it was a few seconds before he got his voice under control. "No. She meant it, she knew what she was talking about." There was a pause; was he shaking his head? "She knew what was going on and she wanted us to save ourselves."

"She's fourteen," Zircon pointed out. "No fourteen-year-old I know would have said that and not meant it as a joke."

"She meant it," Iridium snapped back. "You can see it when she's being sarcastic and when she's serious. It shows in her eyes. And she didn't just mean it, she _wanted _it. She wanted to be left behind, and I can't for the life of me figure out _why._" He sighed again and there was a thump: he'd sat down heavily on the grass. "It just… I guess we've got double proof she never had a great human life. She never really trusted us, and she dealt with the pain of the Tamers too well. Now she wants us to abandon her just because she slows us down a little!"

I frowned. How could he get so much from just little gestures, flat expressions and the few words I chose to speak? Although, admittedly, I'd been talking more in this past week than in the past _year. _I've never been much of a talker. Damn it, I was getting dangerously rusty.

"You can't be serious," said Titan, sounded disconcerted now. "She can't honestly believe we'd leave her behind! She's like, fourteen! How can _anyone, _let alone a kid, have such a serious disposition?!"

"That, my friend," said Iridium quietly, "is part of the mystery."

"Was she always so serious?" Minta asked softly, displaying surprising maturity for a twelve-year-old. Might be her Legendary side kicking in.

"We don't know," said Titan quietly. "We never knew her before this. We barely know her now. All we really know is that she's fourteen, her first name is Atlanta, she was fused with Absol genes, which is unusual because it usually kills the human, she's about five foot seven, she can scare anything into silence with her eyes–"

"Except Iridium," Kiesha quipped.

Titan continued without pausing. "She doesn't eat as much as she probably should, she has a grudge against the Rockets, she's a dead mean fighter, her human life can't have been good, she doesn't like to talk, she's stubborn… She's basically a silent shadow, waiting to leap up and save the world. Did I miss anything?"

"Yeah," Iridium said softly, with a rustle that meant he'd crossed his arms. "She's protective of us and she doesn't know why. She has an older sister that I think is part of the connection to the Rockets. She's not as serious as you might think – she cracked a tiny joke earlier, a tiny, sarcastic quip, but it was there. And though you may not have noticed it, not a single sound of complaint or pain has passed her lips since she woke up ten days ago, in spite of everything they did to her to break her spirit. And she has never given up hope."

They went silent, and I retreated my hearing from the conversation, focusing on the stream bubbling at my knees. I'd never known exactly how the others had seen me; never really cared. But Iridium was right: I would _murder _anyone who hurt them, and I didn't know why. I distanced myself from people as much as I could – my sister had only ever been the one I trusted after our parents' messy divorce, and then Dad… And now…

It was the Pokémon genes, I guessed. I was fond of Pokémon, way more than people, something I probably got from my sister; I was much more comfortable around Pokémon. And I suppose… I suppose I felt more comfortable around the other Pokémorphs because they were part Pokémon. Yes, that made sense.

I sighed, and even managed a smile. Slowly I stood up, feeling relieved by my muscles tensing and relaxing easily again, and headed back for our clearing.

Yes, it was dangerous for someone to know too much about me and my family. But for now, for now, we were safe. I was beginning to trust the others – the Pokémon DNA kicking in again, I suspected, but I felt more comfortable than I had in years.

So rather than slithering from shadow to shadow, taking a slow, cautious route back, on an impulse I tensed my leg muscles, and sprang straight up into the branches of the nearest tree.

Of course, I whacked myself on the head with one branch and nearly fell off, but I just grinned and dug my claws into the bark, feeling my Absol side's balance coming out and steadying me. I set my next target and leapt at the next tree, landing amongst its branches and not slipping up at all this time.

I smiled. This was kinda fun.

My next leap took me onto a branch I knew wouldn't support my stocky five-foot-seven weight and squeaked, preparing for a fall that never came. I could only frown. _Why didn't the branch snap? Heck, it's not even a branch! Try a twig!_

But for once in my life, I shoved the question away, determined to enjoy myself for once without analysing every action for danger. I leapt from branch to branch, making my swift way through the treetops, smiling for what felt like the first time in years.

This Pokémon DNA was really messing with my head.

And I think it was an improvement.


End file.
